Tag Archives: Interviewing

The Business of Life Chapter 43 – Postscript (part 1)

It’s been almost two years since I sold up and retired.  The transition from hectic business life to retirement has taken more adjustment than I could have envisaged.  I hadn’t ever spent any real time imagining what life would be like when business ceased but the reality has taken me somewhat by surprise.

The Business of Life - Postscript (1) The euphoria lasted some weeks – a month or so.  I saw more of family and friends and that was very satisfying.  And a few health problems intervened to take and shine off things.  But very soon I started to get that old, nagging sensation that I needed a challenge.  I started a number of new activities before the world of blogging began to draw me in.  I had always enjoyed writing, even starting the great novel about twenty years ago (it still languishes unfinished enjoying a quiet life on a succession of hard drives).  The one thing I had intended when I did stop work was that I would write and had promised myself I would finish the novel.

 However, it was business thoughts and anecdotes that got me started with ‘The Retrospective Entrepreneur’ blog and it wasn’t long before I realised that I had the material for the book I wanted to write.  It was researching the life and times of my paternal grandfather that made me realise that there was a side to my life that had remained largely unknown to my family and certainly would to my granddaughters.  So, I started to write ‘The Business of Life’ and that has enabled at least many of the facts to be recorded along with all those anecdotes.  But now the tale has been concluded, I have realised that it still shines a light only on a part of my business life.

 Looking back I can see that what I have written leaves many aspect of the real me unrevealed.  Trying to strike a balance between the business and the personal aspects in a way that would satisfy all possible readers was a worthy enough aim.  But what was it that really drove me on?  What emotions and beliefs underpinned the decisions I made?  Did I really consider the consequences that the choices I made would have on my family?  Are there things I could or should have done differently?  And yes, are there regrets?

 So now I’m going to take another look back to try and answer these and other questions.

The issue of nature versus nurture has occupied psychologists and sociologists and a great many others for many years.  As the continued unravelling of the secrets of DNA accelerates and a backlash against politically correct thinking occurs, I expect we may find a definitive answer in my lifetime.  But what of myself?  Did the factors that drove me on and enabled me to succeed come from my genes or from my environment?  And does it matter?

The children of first generation Irish-Italian immigrant families, my elder sister and I had few advantages.  Our father was a cabinet maker and mum was a seamstress and we lived in what today would be viewed as absolute poverty.  But we both passed the 11 Plus and both went to grammar school, something comparatively rare in our neighbourhood.  Our families comprised solely of manual workers with the exception of an uncle who did well enough as a minor civil servant and a cousin who rose to run a major insurance company.  However, these were relatives I saw but rarely, therefore I don’t believe anything rubbed off there.  So if my sister and I had the odd extra grey cell or used what we had a little more efficiently, it might well have been something nature caused to trickle down through the gene pool.

 Apart from my father ensuring I was encouraged to discover for myself the world that books revealed, there was another aspect of my upbringing that must have had an effect upon me.  In our neighbourhood (like so many others at the time) kids played out in the streets, communal gardens and little parks at all hours.  But not my sister and I.  My parents resolutely refused to let us join in informing us that we were “better than that lot.”  Finally, at age 13 I had become big enough and determined enough that they couldn’t control me any longer and I took my place in the local pack.  After an early event that could so easily have brought me onto the wrong side of the law, I learnt to pick my new friends with more care.

 Only one friend from my neighbourhood remained as I entered my twenties.  It wasn’t a conscious decision, there just wasn’t a sufficient range of common interests to bind us together and so we drifted apart.  One effect of my enforced solitude I am (and certainly was at the time) acutely aware of was a lack of social skills.  At least I now know that to be the case.  At the time I was always the quiet outsider who never initiated a conversation or any activity.  I remember railing late into the night to my sister, on more than one occasion that I hated small talk and only wished to discuss things that really mattered.  I can only assume that the many years of pre-teenage solitude robbed me of the chance to acquire some form of social skill.

 Over the next few years my interests diverged from the local lads as I discovered I had no interest in football (one visit to watch Millwall play saw to that) or cricket and rugby and, instead, joined a weight training club and developed a taste for jazz, blues, folk and classical music.  When I entered the world of work, aged fifteen, the ties with my erstwhile friends fell away (with one exception, Mike, until his untimely early death).

I hated authority with an intensity that has stayed with me to the present day.  This was not helped by the beating regime at my school.  I was never that distressed by the regular canings I received from the sadist that passed for our headmaster (Brother Peter – a nice religious man) as I probably deserved them.  But when I was beaten for fighting back against the school bully, that did it for me and authority.  Even though my tormentor was absolved of wrongdoing, I did have the satisfaction of knowing that he had been carted off to hospital to have his face stitched up.  No-one at school tried pushing me around after that.

When I turned my back on education and started work I had no clear ambition.  Although reading had given me many insights into the world at large, I had no knowledge of where I might go in terms of career in order to succeed.  The majority of my neighbourhood pals had followed fathers and uncles into union dominated areas such as the ‘print’ (don’t believe for one minute that nepotism and patronage is the preserve of the middle and upper classes).  All I knew, with a burning intensity, was that I wanted to go far enough up the ladder that I could never fall all the way back to where I had started.

By the time I entered the workforce I was determined to learn as fast as I could what it was that would cause me to progress.  Anything or anyone who merely wanted to plod along or play the system, I shunned.  I sought role models I could respect and I learnt from them as fast as I could and, in turn, I supported them to the extent of my abilities.  Years later when I was reviewing my CV (following my final departure from corporate life) I made an interesting discovery.  My greatest successes had come in positions where I had worked for a person I had respected and enjoyed working and constantly going the extra mile for.  All of what I consider my failures came in roles where I reported to someone who proved incapable of engendering respect in me.

 I never enjoyed (and therefore shunned) team sports.  I think that this was another result of my enforced exclusion from the endless impromptu football and cricket matches played in my neighbourhood.  Sport was never played at my junior school and by the time I entered grammar school I simply had no skills or knowledge to demonstrate.  However, I have always been ultra competitive and was always quick to respond to a challenge or a dare (inevitably bringing me into yet another brush with authority).

 For many years  I thought myself to be an introverted loner (probably as a result of my enforced childhood solitude) .  Certainly I have never been afraid to be my own man, frequently taking the lonely path and a book always seemed a reasonable companion.  However, it wasn’t until many years later when undergoing training for the Myers Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI) qualification that I found that I corresponded quite clearly to the preference of extroverted behaviour.  For those who are interested my type is ENTJ (Extraverted Intuition with Introverted Feeling).

 Isabel Briggs Myers defined the ENTJ type as “Natural leaders and organisation builders.  They conceptualise and theorise readily and translate possibilities into plans to achieve short-term and long-term objectives.” She goes on to describe them as likely to be: “analytical, logical and objectively critical; decisive, clear and assertive; conceptual and innovative theorisers and planners.”  There are downsides to this type, which include, “Becoming overly impersonal and critical; being intrusive and domineering; and being abrasive and verbally aggressive.”  I largely recognised myself from this description.

Are leaders born or created?  I really don’t know the answer to that question but I do believe that everyone can learn to improve how they lead and that differing situations bring a requirement for different types of leader.  I had no influences of leadership that I am aware of in my early years but I was put in charge of a patrol in the Scouts aged twelve and then became troop leader at fourteen.  Having been given my first business to run at age twenty-nine, I suppose I must have shown some degree of leadership potential.  So what was my leadership style?

 Those who worked for me are best equipped to answer that question and I am certain that there are as many that saw the negative aspects as there are those who can recount the positive side of my leadership.  I have always believed in delegation but an interesting insight into this aspect came from Vic Vroom (a Professor of Psychology at Yale).  Following analysis he described me to be a clear believer in delegation, except in two circumstances; where time was of the essence and where I did not trust subordinates to make the right decision.  I can certainly identify with this description.  When I had a good, well trained team (as I did at Sylvania UK) I trusted them implicitly to make the right decisions.  When faced with a failing business and a team that sadly was lacking both experience and ability (as I found when appointed to turnaround Selmar), my style had to be far more decisive and authoritarian.

I find it sad that many senior politicians claim that they know they are doing ‘the right thing’ (usually when they are incapable of providing a logical explanation for their actions).  In business we have company law and legislation to guide us through many of the difficult situations we may face.  Despite my dislike for authority, when I fully understand the logic behind the regulations, I find it easy to do the ‘right thing’.  When I was called upon to make some of the hardest decisions (such as firing a friend and colleague and calling in the administrators) I knew that my actions were both legally correct and morally defensible.  Not taking these actions would have exposed creditors, other shareholders and employees to far greater risks.

With a life long thirst for learning I have always been interested in why people differ in their need and preference for learning.  A few years ago I came across the Learning Styles concept, pioneered by Peter Honey.  Taking the questionnaire I found my learning style preferences to be strongly for Theory and Activism (with lower scores for Reflector and Pragmatist).  This would explain my thirst for acquiring theory and a rush to put it into practice where relevant.  However, it also explains why I suffered from leaving the impression at so many interviews of ‘being all theory’ (despite my attempts to explain how I went on to successfully put theory into practice).

 Certainly, I have always tended to describe myself when asked, as being analytical and logical and I count myself fortunate in having had ample opportunity in my career to apply these behavioural traits.  And, looking back, I am fortunate to have succeeded more than I failed in my business endeavours.  It has also been possible to see how the negative aspects of my behaviour (and yes, every strength has a potential downside) have caused pain to others around me.  Not least of these have been those I loved the most.

 In the next part of this retrospective I will try to examine the emotional issues that I faced in tackling some of the problems I had to deal with and the consequences these had on those around me.

Image courtesy of Maiden-voyage-travel.com

The Business of Life Chapter 39 – brought down to earth

Life had never been dull at Metal Spinners Group but on a personal level I had settled into a routine that most weeks saw me travel up to Newcastle on Tuesday morning and return on Thursday evening.  Having invested my entire savings in buying the company (along with my stake in Bridgestream and ABC technology Distribution) I resisted what might otherwise have been a temptation to buy somewhere in Northumberland.  Instead I stayed in a variety of rented flats & B&B’s in the peaceful village of Corbridge culminating with the delightful Jill at Priorfield .Brought down to earth

Travelling had always been a part of my life and if I had to spend longer than a week in the same place I would become restless.  Now the international business wanderings had largely become a thing of the past but I had been wearing out a succession of cars covering 25~30,000 miles each year.  Whilst the time spent away from home was not something Denise enjoyed it did provide me with plenty of guilt free time alone.  The long hours on the road provided valuable thinking time and evenings alone permitted ample time for reading and whatever work I needed to do at whatever time I chose.  I also managed complete box sets of The Wire and The Sopranos, vast number of books and was always up before six either swimming, walking or working out in the gym.

In corporate life I had frequently felt I was under relentless pressure to make decisions with insufficient time to really think things through.  Owning and sharing the running of up to six businesses, all in different industries, all at the same time, might seem a less than responsible thing to have tackled.  However, this lifestyle did in fact help with many problems.  Simply having the time to think more deeply about all of the options and their potential implications overnight helped a great deal and the reaction to phone calls tended to become, “I’ll get back to you first thing.”  Having this time to myself was invaluable but there was one area it didn’t always seem to help.

Business partners can be a great help especially in broadening the range of  experience and skills within the team and the sheer advantage of others with whom you can chew over problems.  But, like a successful marriage, a business partnership requires respect and trust to succeed.  In opting for the role of chairman in these businesses I had to take my hands off the day to day levers of control and place trust in the partner who was MD to make these decisions.  Unfortunately, and to my great cost, Bridgestream was an example of what can happen when trust is abused.  Despite this the majority of my business partners have been entirely trustworthy but it didn’t stop me chewing my fingernails down to my elbows on occasions.

Roger was a vastly experienced chief executive with great depth and breadth of knowledge of the engineering sector worldwide.  He was also a proud and independent man and attempting to look over his shoulder or double guess his judgements would have been sheer folly.  Having worked with him on the broad strategy for the way forward, I would step back and give him the time and space to implement.  After the initial year working together we ceased holding regular board meetings for the most part.  Instead, we would frequently just sit over coffee and discuss progress, problems and the key issues.  Often no decisions would be taken but I knew that, having taken a sounding and gained another view, Roger would then make whatever decision he felt appropriate.  One such decision provided me with more than one sleepless night.

Our largest customer (one of the world’s largest industrial concerns) was forever attempting to drive down the cost of purchasing by one means or another.  Roger informed me one day that he had found out that they were considering moving a major component away from us to another metal forming process.  “It won’t work, though,” he said casually, “I’ve paid for an engineering feasibility study and it proves it won’t work.”  He then shared the study with them but subsequently learnt that they were still pressing ahead with the trials.  “They’ve said they are going to take full production away from us,” was his next report back, “and they are refusing to renew our contract.  However, they want us to produce the samples but that is going to work out very expensive for them!  If we’re not getting the production volume at least we’ll go out on a very profitable high.”

With our largest (by far) customer threatening to take away the largest piece of work we did for them I tried not to think of life without them.  Yes, the margins for this work produced were lower than other business we had and this would blunt the effect of the volume loss, but it was still a nightmare scenario.  Some months later Roger bounced into my office. “Guess what?” was his greeting.  “The new trials are going wrong and they have asked us to drop down to the price we had previously agreed for production volumes.”  My spirits lifted.  “I’ve told them to get stuffed,” he went on, “no contract, so they continue to pay sample prices.  It’s not our fault their other process won’t work.” “Oh shit,” I thought.

A couple of months later when Roger and I sat down with Malcolm to review the accounts, they showed a giant leap in profitability.  “Good this sample business, isn’t it?” smiled Roger.  Over the next year our customer howled and squirmed but kept ordering and the profits mounted to such an extent we were able finally to pay down our remaining debt.  We also got a new contract.  Life on the roller coaster.

In 2006 we decided to see if we could sell and we appointed Deloittes in Newcastle to market the businesses and act as advisors.  Initial discussions led us to the conclusion that it would be extremely unlikely that we would succeed in finding a buyer for both of the companies we owned within Precision Engineering International.  We decided to put Trisk on the market first with the target of Hedson our largest competitor who had failed previously to buy in 1999.  After a long and increasingly fractious process we succeeded with a sale of the business and heaved a sigh of relief.  The only problem was we were left with a very large factory site in Sunderland as they quickly moved production to Sweden.

With Trisk sold we turned our full attention to the MSG business and Malcolm and I put in a vast amount of time pulling together the required information for the sale prospectus.  A global research programme was carried out and a shortlist of 20~30 prospective purchasers was assembled and contacted by Deloitte.  The interested parties were then supplied with the detailed information pack, which resulted in a small number of offers.  Unfortunately, there was only one offer that looked at all worthwhile and this was from a small northern VC.  By this stage our relationship with Deloittes had become somewhat acrimonious over the modest amount of senior management time that had been spent on our account.  Negotiations commenced and it quickly became clear that there were a number of real stumbling blocks to a sale.

The first issue was that Roger was being viewed as indispensable (and at that stage he was) resulting in the condition that he remained with the business.  This was compounded by the requirement that he roll over a large proportion of his sale proceeds into the new company.  Given that 3i still owned just over half of the equity it would mean that Roger would gain very little in cash terms from a sale.  This was bad enough but there was another major problem.

Due to the growing market in China our largest customer had been once more making demands of us and this time it was for us to open a joint venture factory there with them.  We had run the projections on such a project and come to the conclusion that because of the additional costs involved there was no way we could ever make money from the venture.  There was another insidious risk to such a move; with a far Eastern partner in a joint factory our unique technical know-how could be copied.  In the UK no outsider was permitted to observe or film our processes.  By this stage we had learned that there was no one else in the world that could match our capabilities.  This came to light when our ‘loyal’ major customer approached the manufacturer of our equipment to find another supplier only to be informed we were really the only choice anywhere in the world.

Shortly afterwards the purchase offer was withdrawn due (as we later learned) to the threat of a potential £2m investment in China.  By this stage Roger had negotiated a deal to supply sample production to China, promising that we were committed to the joint venture.  Gradually production volumes and shipments to China grew and the concept of a joint venture disappeared.

Following the collapse of the negotiations a strategy was devised to put the business into a more saleable position for the future.  This involved a new drive to widen the customer base (especially in the USA) and to eliminate the dependence upon Roger.  The first step was to commence a search for an MD for MSG and create an operational board for the company that would take control (over time) on a day to day basis.

We had made two previous attempts to recruit a potential replacement for Roger and, despite sparkling CV’s and wonderful references, both had proved to be incapable of the role.  It had become clear that attracting the right calibre of executive was extremely difficult.  We needed a mechanical engineer with large company experience and commitment to continuous improvement and someone who wanted to move into a smaller business.  By this stage we were very profitable and by far the largest company of our type in the UK (if not in Europe), our previously equal sized competitor having all but disappeared.  We were prepared to put together a very attractive offer for a suitable candidate.  But the problem with our two previous executives was that they seemed unable to adapt to life in a smaller organisation.

However, a new threat emerged that was of far greater immediate concern.  I got a call from Ian the executive at 3i who was our official contact (I had managed to avoid having a 3i executive appointed to our board back in 1997).  Ian and I had worked together during the years we had been turning around ABC Technology and had a good relationship.  I knew (from my years as a member of an unofficial group of investing chairmen 3i put together to advise on ‘problem investments’) that they had been slimming down their investment portfolio in businesses that were not of substantial size.  The word from Ian that day was we were being put up for sale in a bundle of around 40 businesses.

This prospect filled me with horror (as it did Roger and Malcolm when I reported back).  An unknown new VC owner who most likely wanted to meddle in our strategy and turn a quick profit was not something any of us could see any advantage in.  I called Ian and asked him if he felt 3i would be receptive to an offer from us for their shares before they put us up for sale.  I got an affirmative but with the caveat that we would have to work quickly to raise the money and complete the sale process.  We had the advantage that Roger had known the regional director at HSBC for many years, who proved very receptive to the prospect of financing our loan.

The negotiation with 3i proved somewhat more difficult than I had imagined and whilst they had no objection to a sale to us they were certainly no pushover.  The worst aspect was a ‘non embarrassment clause’ that held that we could not sell within a defined period without making good to 3i the money that they would have made had they not sold their equity to us.  Given that we needed time to complete our strategy we agreed and the sale and purchase agreement was completed.  The downside was that we moved from being debt free to being the proud possessors of a very large, shiny, new 5 year loan.  But the upside was that Roger, Malcolm and I now owned 100% of our business.  Thoughts of selling were put aside as we pressed on with expanding the business and paying down the new debt burden we had acquired.

Frustrated with the time wasted sitting in  traffic jams I started flying lessons.  The freedom of the air was wonderful but I was brought down to earth after a short period by two factors.  The first was that it rapidly became clear that given our weather patterns (especially around my local airport – Leeds Bradford) flying was never going to be something I could rely upon as a means of business transport.  Even thoughts of pleasure flying on the few favourable days we occasionally enjoy were also dashed when I found that Civil Aviation regulations would preclude me from wearing my (now essential) hearing aids for the medical I would have to take.  This was frustrating.

But frustrating as it was to learn that I would never take to the skies as a solo pilot, another event was to occur that was far more devastating.

Image courtesy of mistralaviation.co.uk

The Business of life Chapter 38 – when a dream goes sour

“I’ve lost my job!” were the first words David uttered when he turned up to see me in early 2002.  David and I had known each other for well over twenty years, since our time in the lighting industry running competitor companies.  Despite the intense rivalry between our organisations we had always enjoyed each other’s friendship when we met at industry functions.  We had lost touch with each other when David had moved to the south for a new role but he had recently relocated back to Yorkshire again.  We spent time together discussing what had happened and the options David had for his next career move.

Our business crest & motto “Strength through knowledge”

It was some months before I met David again, but when he came calling it was to set my career off in a new direction and widen my portfolio of roles still further.  “I’ve got an idea for a business.” was David’s greeting that second meeting, “Are you interested?”  He went on to say that he had paid a large sum of money to sign up with what claimed to be a not for profit organisation that provided re-training for executives wishing to move into business consultancy.  David’s view was that the course he had attended had provided poor value for money and he believed we could do far better in setting up our own competing service.

I was noncommittal that first day but said that I would research the sector and see if the concept of a competing business made sense.  I went through the process of producing a draft business plan.  After reviewing the company in question, all similar businesses and the Small and Medium Enterprise (SME) sector I came to the view that, given David’s recent experience, we could well put together a superior service.  When I added in our respective experience and skills I became convinced that this was a viable proposition.  I met up with David once more, took him through my findings and we quickly trashed out the actions required to get our new business started.

Within a short period I had registered a company (The Academy of Business Consultants), obtained a VAT registration, taken out the required insurances, produced a corporate identity, leaflets and business cards, created and implemented a website and sketched out a marketing and operations plan.  I was driven!  Working with David proved to be extremely productive as we found that we had a synergistic effect upon each other that made creating concepts and resolving problems a simple and enjoyable process.  Within six months of our initial discussions we had our business and launch plans complete and placed the first advertisement of our advertising campaign in the Sunday Times.

The concept we had developed involved refining the enquiries we received from the advertising campaign, getting the candidates to complete an online personality profiling questionnaire and inviting them to an evening seminar.  During these seminars we would outline a genuine array of career options open to them, present a profile of the SME sector and its needs, pitch our training course concept and provide valuable feedback on their behavioural preferences and how these might impact upon future roles.  The responses we received to the advertising were good and we ran seminars in the North, Midlands and London.  However, despite receiving healthy attendance and strong interest it quickly became apparent that we had a failure on our hands.  We had encountered an insurmountable problem.

We had offered a better and more relevant training programme, set our price at a more attractive level and matched the offering of refined leads and continuing support to those completing the training programme.   There was, however, a critical element of our main competitor’s offering that clinched business for them but one we had chosen not to follow.  One of the key factors that invariably clinched the sale for our competitor was an ‘income guarantee’.  Having reviewed the documentation that David had been given it was clear that the guarantee was all but worthless, so hedged around with conditions and procedures that it was almost inconceivable that anyone could succeed with a claim.  Little wonder that they boasted that they had never had to pay out!  We decided that it would be unethical to match this misleading offer and we changed the direction of our business.

Whilst David had found that the ‘hot leads’ he had been provided by our competitor were at best on the tepid side of stone cold he had, nevertheless, succeeded in building a strong client base of his own.  An interesting and resourceful turn of events had been David’s success in persuading a local firm of chartered accountants to sub-contract the provision of business advice for clients to him.  This experience had led him into a similar arrangement with other firms.  The accounting firms were all members of a national marketing membership organisation (we’ll call them XYZ) that provided help and assistance to members to enable them to run a better business.

We knew from research conducted by Strathclyde University that accountants were the most trusted source of advice amongst private business owners.  However, David’s experience was that beyond the traditional areas of accounting and tax, most small and medium sized accounting firms shied away from offering other forms of business related advice.  “Why don’t we offer our business advice service to more of XYZ’s members?” I suggested. “They obviously see the commercial wisdom of offering advice to clients but don’t feel confident or expert enough to do so themselves.”  David agreed and this was the genesis of our new business venture.

I joined David (in my ‘spare time’) in widening the number of firms we approached and we quickly succeeded in winning further clients amongst the members.  Convinced that the service we were providing was potentially of real value to XYZ, we decided to approach them.  This was not a simple matter and it took many attempts over six months before we sat across a desk from one of the two founders.  The meeting went well and we came away with an agreement to trial our service to a sample of their members.  We recruited another highly experienced business advisor to join us and once again proved we could deliver results.  Some months later the trial was extended to a further region and the results continued to improve.

A short way into our extended trial the three of us started to uncover the same situation time and again.  It was the practice owner rather than their clients who was in most urgent need of face to face business guidance and support.  Despite being highly qualified and experienced chartered accountants the vast majority of practice owners lacked the wider business skills to get the most from their teams and their clients.  The answer we soon implemented was to commence a coaching programme with the practice owner in addition to our work with their clients.

We had implemented a client satisfaction feedback process whereby our researcher, interviewed every practice owner and client we worked with following a set period.  The feedback we received was invaluable and showed our service to be rated either first or second out of the whole XYZ offering.  It also enabled us to take corrective action where required and ensure that our service continued to meet members’ needs.  We also fed back the results to each associate and the XYZ management.  The change of direction was extremely successful and led to a real breakthrough when XYZ asked us to provide a national service for every new member they recruited.  We then formed a new company with XYZ as partners.  Given that we were now about to create a business with effectively a sole customer, we argued that such a shared destiny required a reciprocal shareholding in XYZ.  We were not successful in this but settled for the right to attend and participate in their board meetings.

Faced with a national launch far beyond the geographic capabilities of three of us we started an intensive recruitment campaign to cover the entire UK.  Within a short period we assembled and trained a team of 20 associates, each of whom had previously held at least one role as MD or chairman.  Ironically, each of these new associates had been uncovered via our previous competitor’s online network!  Based on the experience that we had gathered from our existing work, our model was based upon a mix of coaching and mentoring.  We knew that pure coaching methodologies (the coach questions and the coachee provides their own solutions) can provide strong results.  However, our own experience showed that a combination of coaching blended with appropriate guidance (based on the vast experience of our associates) enabled a time-efficient and professional solution.

By this stage I had been running businesses for thirty years and been an owner of various different organisations for ten.  These organisations had been many times larger than the one David and I had created and they had given me rich and varied experience.  But having created a successful organisation together from the failure of our initial concept was richly and uniquely rewarding.  To start and build a successful business is something really rather special.  We were now helping many business owners and their teams to be more successful as organisations and more fulfilled as individuals.  David and I had continued to make a truly synergistic team where difficulties were merely fresh challenges to be overcome.  With David’s superior interpersonal skills and my research, analysis and organisational work we were a powerful team.

David and I also worked closely with our new partners, resulting in an initially a strong relationship.  However, management changes took place within their organisation after a couple of years and differences of opinion started to emerge over strategy.  As time moved on I found that I was spending more and more time attempting to negotiate a resolution of these differences.  I became to realise that the rich feelings of satisfaction with our business that I had enjoyed so much had all but evaporated.  I could see only opportunity squandered and a loss of personal freedom stretching ahead.  A concept that both David and I had planned to run on into retirement had become something from which I could no longer derive satisfaction.

Following lengthy discussions over the situation we both seemed to realise that events had changed so much that we could never recapture the fun and satisfaction we had previously enjoyed.  Subsequently, following discussions with our partners, an offer was made to buy out my stake in the business and in 2010, after 8 great years working with David, I departed.

Reading over this last chapter I realise that it ends on a very low note but that accurately reflects the way it felt at the time.  There is a very much more complex story that I have abbreviated into a few short paragraphs but legal reasons preclude me from going into greater detail.  I really missed what David and I had created but time and circumstances had moved on and I had to do likewise.

David continued to run the business with our previous partners for another two years until the situation changed once more and the contract was terminated.  He is now continuing to offer business coaching and advice to a much wider spectrum of professions and still working with most of our previous associates.  I wish him every success in what remains a valuable endeavour.

We had succeeded in building this business together whilst I was still heavily involved in the running of ABC, Trisk and Bison as well as chairing Hallamshire.  I still don’t know how it all fitted together into 365 day years – perhaps the extra day in leap years helped.  And yes, whilst I was having fun in all these businesses, there was always the time I spent each week in Newcastle with the big investment I had made in Metal Spinners Group.  And events there were becoming ever more involving.

Less than a month after my departure an event took place in Newcastle that was to have far reaching implications.

 

The business of life Chapter 37 – the joy of closure

Assembled in a meeting room in a hotel close to Newcastle airport early one morning, the two sides eyed each other warily.  We had not met for three years but had fought with all the powers of the law on our side and what had seemed like pure obduracy & guile on our opponents’ part.  It appeared that Clifford had convinced himself that our legal claims would melt away as we failed in the business his father had founded all those years before.The business of life - chapter 37

The plenary session began with both sides facing each other either side of a long table with the law society facilitators at either end.  Both sides had legal teams present comprising lawyers and barristers, all enjoying huge hourly fees whatever the outcome.  The process of spelling out our claim in great detail and at length whilst staring Clifford in the eye was a strange experience indeed.  It was exceeded only by having to listen to what we felt constituted the fairy tale of their defence and counter claim.  The plenary session over we retired to our respective rooms and the shuttle diplomacy began.  The chairman visited each party in turn to ascertain at first hand the reaction each group had to the others’ position.

It was clear that no quick or easy solution was likely to emerge, in fact it seemed that Clifford and Mike were as resistant to a settlement as ever.  Day turned into evening with no progress at all and the session broke up with each group making its own arrangements for dinner.  The next day began and continued all morning with no progress.  I was becoming increasingly irritated by the corporate finance partner from our law firm who could only match the other side’s bluster and seemed intent on ensuring that we ended up in court.  In contrast, Stephanie his manager who had worked closely with me over the previous three years impressed me greatly with her calm efforts to find a solution.

The day wore on in like fashion and Roger, Malcolm and I were becoming resigned to having to endure the costs and uncertainty of resolution before a judge.  I had been casually intrigued by the behaviour of our barrister who for the last hour or so had been ignoring the rest of us and quietly doodling on his pad (or so I assumed).  “OK,” he suddenly exclaimed, “this is how I see things.”  He then proceeded to share his doodles with us, which were actually a matrix of all of the claims and counter claims at stake.  Ranged against each claim was a percentage calculation of the chances of each party winning or losing with his best estimate of the awards and costs each would incur should they win or lose.

The bottom line was the view that we had an almost 100% chance of winning all of our claims.  His view was that Clifford had, at best, only a 50% chance of winning their counter claim.  However, the killer result was that the costs and damages Clifford would suffer as a result of our wins would exceed any benefit from his counter claim succeeding by a factor of about ten.  We called in the chairman who quietly listened, asked a few questions and departed to put this picture before Clifford and Mike.   An hour later he returned and we learned that they had capitulated almost completely.  A couple more hours later we all signed the necessary documents that drew matters to a close (apart from some remaining issues that festered on with HMRC).

As I drove back to Yorkshire that night I reflected on what had happened over the last three years.  Many years previously Clifford and Mike had put in train a course of action that was relatively insignificant at the time but one that had snowballed into major proportions.  I felt it was sheer arrogance and mindless bravado that had brought Clifford into conflict with us, a process that set about unravelling their plan & compounding matters through their refusal to negotiate.  It was clear that Clifford and Mike’s legal team had failed to advise them of the costs they could incur by their actions.  We had won a long, drawn out and bloody battle that had never been of our choosing and had won handsomely.  Strangely, it gave me little satisfaction other than great relief that the whole sad story was over.  I had closure.

Freed of the efforts and frustrations of a long and drawn out legal fight, we threw ourselves back into the challenges of improving our complex new group of three companies.  MSG was our strategic acquisition, the core of our business with, we believed, great potential for highly profitable growth and an ultimate sale.  By the standards of the UK engineering sector it was already a highly successful business (not least due to its non-involvement in the mainstream automotive sector, one we steadfastly ignored).  It had a potential to become even more profitable through an ability to offer unique solutions to demanding blue-chip customers.  We knew that it would take hard work and patience owing to the extremely long leads times required to replace an existing process.  In the case of one of the major customers we won, it took fully ten years.

Trisk and Bison were more tactical (and certainly opportunistic) acquisitions.  Both produced exceptional profits in the first year of our ownership.  If we had then put both businesses up for sale life would have become a lot simpler (a lot sooner).  However, buoyed by the wondrous sound of cash hitting the bottom of the piggy bank and improving PEI’s balance sheet, we pressed on certain that we had hit the magic formula.  From then on matters got infinitely more complex as the cash production machine slowed.

There are long, frustrating stories behind our ownership of both these businesses but I’ll restrict myself to the following brief accounts.

A common feature of both businesses was the quality of management and many of the staff we inherited (courtesy of TUPE).  In both cases, instead of their embracing the change and opportunity brought by new ownership, we had to spend too much time fighting a tendency to revert to the orthodoxies that drove them into administration in the first place.  It was almost as if they believed their failed businesses had been pursuing the correct strategy and policies all along and some freak external event had knocked them temporarily off course.  These tendencies were bad enough but the net effect was to divert our attention from MSG where, with hindsight, we should have concentrated our time and energies.

With Bison, it only took a parting with the MD (son of the CEO of failed parent PLC) and four short years to sell the business in 2003.  We heaved a sigh of relief and moved on.

The situation with Trisk was much more complex.  The company still had technical leadership in infra red paint curing and had also developed ultra violet technology for more demanding applications.  The business was certainly a world leader in its sector and exported to every continent across the globe.  Once we had taken over we saw that Trisk had a number of critical strategic issues.  A major market for Trisk had been the USA where we had a network of commission agents.  Our products were capable of commanding far higher price levels but the agents had learned to sit on their hands ahead of the peak winter demand until our locally based manager panicked and reduced prices.  This was a pattern that revealed itself to be a major problem in many parts of the world.  Attempting to establish a stable and rational pricing strategy proved to be particularly tough due to internal company politics and the weak MD we had inherited with the business.

The other major problem took several years to emerge as the Trisk management either weren’t aware of the shifting dynamics of their marketplace or they ensured that they wouldn’t reveal what they knew (knowing it would require them to change strategy completely).  Trisk had built its initial success on designing and selling IR paint curing systems almost exclusively used for automotive repair work.  These systems were based around an array of IR lamps mounted on relatively simple mobile stands that could be moved around car repair workshops.  Trisk had also adapted the concepts into larger arrays built into custom spray booths.  A major market shift began to make itself felt in the first couple of years following our acquisition.

Legislation was driving the introduction of health and safety and other environmental regulations and these were killing off small repair shops, consolidating the market towards larger and more efficient units.  As this trend continued (fuelled by a succession of mild winters) sales of Trisk’s traditional mobile units declined.  The problem, that took some time to emerge, was that we were not gaining the share of in-booth systems that we should have been achieving.  Booth manufacturers were being involved at the design stage of the new super car repair shops permitting them to specify whose paint curing system was installed.  By the time Trisk personnel got to know about a new repair centre it was already up and running with a competitor’s curing system installed with the booths.

It was clear that Trisk management and sales staff had simply been unaware of this key shift in market dynamics.  Or worse, they had chosen to keep doing what they always did (in their comfort zone) in the hope that it might bring about a return to the glory days.  Around the time that this strategic market shift was becoming apparent, our MD, Tom, came to us with a request to buy the company out from us.  Tired of the short-sighted and intransigent management at Trisk and a need to re-focus our attention back upon MSG, we agreed.  What followed was a disaster that we should have foreseen.  Tom took many months getting funding and putting his bid together during which time he clearly neglected the company.  The bid he put to us ultimately was derisory, was duly rejected and he departed shortly afterwards.

Roger and I became more closely involved in running the business and the strategic issues began to surface.  Trisk’s real expertise lay in the technology of curing paint quickly and effectively and it was a world leader in this field.  The actual delivery systems were secondary but it was vital that Trisk became involved in ensuring their systems were specified at the design stage of the spray booths.  We recruited a marketing manager to research the market, promote and co-ordinate the use of Trisk technology into booths.

We also looked to see where else the technology could be most effectively employed.  It didn’t take long to discover that the servicing and repair of commercial aircraft was a potentially hugely profitable sector.  The leading edges of wings and tailfins had to be resprayed on a scheduled basis but the paint curing systems used were slow and expensive.  Trisk’s solution could eliminate days of aircraft downtime saving thousands of pounds for the operators.  With these two strategies in place, we employed an aerospace expert and a new managing director.

Sadly, our new MD transpired (despite an apparently strong CV and significant technical qualifications) to be completely ineffective and I had the task once more of seeing an MD off the premises.  It became clear that the sales and marketing team were not being successful in either ensuring specification of Trisk technology into new booth installations nor were they taking the action we had agreed to improve pricing.  Despite diverting major time on the part of our local MSG US manager towards assisting Trisk, the distribution problems there remained.  The fledgling aerospace business was still struggling to break through and gain aerospace approvals.  Our aerospace manager resigned taking up a more mainstream role in the sector.  Despite investing huge amounts of our time the team never seemed to have their heart in stepping out of their comfort zone and taking the necessary action that would turn the business around.

Looking back, Roger and I had believed in the business and had pushed hard to effect the changes that we believed would turn its fortunes around.  Our experience once more had been of ineffective management that we had inherited (and subsequently employed).  Buying both Bison and Trisk had stretched our management capabilities to the limit.  I still believe that we could have made a success of Trisk had we been able to concentrate solely on that business.  Both businesses had initially contributed strongly but we should have sold both within a year.

Although 3i had never overtly pressured us to sell PEI we did experience attempts at ‘persuasion’ occasionally and around this time a fresh ‘persuasion offensive’ was made.  Roger, Malcolm and I discussed the situation and decided that we would put the entire PEI business up for sale.  MSG had been performing well, our debt had been significantly reduced and we would be glad to see the end of Trisk.

Could we find a buyer for the whole business?  Would we receive offers that would reflect the value we had built in MSG?

 Image courtesy of careers.guardian.co.uk

 

The Business of Life Chapter 33 – like snakes without the ladders

On the day we acquired the Metal Spinners group of companies (MSG)I drove the 100 miles to Newcastle to take control of our new acquisition after just two hours sleep.  Following months of tortuous negotiations that I swear would have sent a saint insane, we had completed the transaction at 4.00am that morning in our lawyers’ offices in Leeds.  Roger, Mark and I now owned (along with 3i, our equity partners) a specialist engineering business that had been formed in 1953.  Along with our nearest competitor, we were jointly the largest such firm in the UK.

Like snakes without the ladders

 Our business strategy, which had won us the backing of 3i & Allied Irish Bank, included not only growing the MSG business organically but buying up a number of our competitors, rationalising production and ultimately selling on the business.  However, that morning when we addressed the workforce in two mass meetings at our largest factories in Newcastle, we spoke only of our commitment to the business and of continuing investment.  Whilst Mark set about the process of ensuring that we had firm control of the company’s finances, Roger and I set off with Clifford (the previous owner) to meet some of the major customers.

 The meetings went well and Clifford was companionable and co-operative enough.  The following week I travelled with him again to meet more customers as Roger immersed himself in the production processes.  This time little inconsistencies began to emerge in Clifford’s accounts of a number of aspects of the business and it wasn’t long before Roger’s assessment on meeting him for the first time came back to me, “I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him.”  Given Roger’s size advantage I was prepared to allow Clifford some latitude but doubts nagged at me when he became increasingly evasive over what should have been straightforward matters.  This evasive behaviour plus a word in Mark’s ear from the management accountant as he departed for a new life in Australia sent what had been merely niggling doubts into full blown alarm.

The more we dug into the company’s affairs the more our doubts rose until we had a dossier of concerns that we laid before our lawyers.  Their advice was that we had significant claims against the vendors plus a damaging potential problem with HMRC.  Warning letters from our lawyers were sent out that were initially ignored only eventually to result in a counter claim from the vendors.  Additionally, as the stakes rose and the acrimony mounted, towards the end of that first year Clifford demanded repayment of the loan notes he had issued as part of the sale and purchase agreement.  These loan notes (which gave Clifford the tax advantage of spreading part of the consideration over two years) had provided a large chunk of our working capital and were repayable on demand to Clifford.

Word was at the same time filtering back through the local business community that Clifford was claiming we had no idea how to run the company, would be forced into administration and he would buy the business back for a song.  Hearsay, yes.  But the demand for repayment of his loan notes could have been fatally damaging.  However, our business was performing extremely well and we had built something of a cash mountain by year end.  We repaid the first loan note, pushed on with the claims and over the next two years incurred huge legal bills in progressing our investigations and the claims.

The business was certainly performing well and Roger, Mark and I had settled into our respective roles.  Roger had his hands around his role of MD and his wealth of experience not only as an engineer but someone with immense knowledge of the steel and engineering sector worldwide was proving ever more valuable.  With complete agreement over strategy, I had immersed myself in two key tasks.  The first was ensuring we progressed our legal claims in the most effective manner.  The other was researching companies in our sector seeking out potential acquisition targets.  Other problems were growing though.

 “We need a word, “Roger said one day, closing my always open office door, “We’ve got a real problem with Mark.”  He then proceeded to spell out a litany of concerns he had over Mark’s ability and performance as financial director accompanied by hard-hitting evidence.  I was shocked.  I had seen Mark work tirelessly with me over the previous two years through one rejected bid after another.  I had been impressed with his understanding of corporate finance and his grasp of the wider aspects of business strategy.  I had seen Mark go through a particularly difficult period in the month prior to our acquisition when it looked increasingly like the transaction would be successfully completed.  His dilemma had been over timing of his resignation from his existing role as FD in a small Plc.  I had needed Mark full time from the very first day if we were successful and he would have to resign at least a month ahead of our scheduled competition.  In the event he had resigned but with a young family it had been a difficult decision to give up financial security.  I said I would speak with Mark.

 The process that took place over the next few weeks was far from easy.  I liked Mark, enjoyed his company, had been impressed by his financial judgement and knew his family well.  I felt committed to him for his support over the previous few years but the evidence that he was failing was overwhelming.  It was not a matter of experience, he certainly had that.  The problem appeared to be that he lacked many of the competencies required for the role.  I prepared for our meeting by reviewing the requirements for the role of finance director, covering every aspect of the role.  I shared our concerns with Mark and provided him with a copy of the list I had drawn up.  I suggested he took a week off to consider how he felt he matched the requirements of the role.  He agreed to do this.

A week later we met and I was saddened to hear from Mark that he accepted that he was deficient in most of the key competencies required for his role.  Nevertheless he felt he could improve.  What he was basically admitting was that he did not have the aptitude for the key aspects of his role.   Roger and I discussed the situation at length.  We were just a three man board.  Having recently acquired a large and demanding business, with a potentially crucial legal claim unresolved and with the tasks of reviewing and improving every aspect of the business, we could not afford to be carrying anyone.  With a vast amount of debt, external shareholders and financial backers, it was essential that the financial systems and processes and the man responsible were bombproof.  Quite apart from our considerable personal investments, we had to consider the wellbeing of over 150 employees, our customers and suppliers.

Parting company with Mark was another low point of my career.  But I believe that the process and timing of our approach enabled him to forge a career more suited to his undoubted skills and competencies before the situation degenerated into one infinitely more damaging to all concerned.  Certainly the relationship with our financial backers was going to be critical over the next few years and the role of FD would come under the spotlight on many occasions.  Luckily for all concerned, as a result of experience, our shareholders’ agreement made explicit provision for dealing with the transfer of equity in such circumstances.  Mark went on to forge a new career as a financial advisor, a role he was well equipped for.

Once more we were thrust into the task of finding a suitably skilled and experienced executive to join our team.  In the event the hunt was not a lengthy one and after a thorough process Malcolm joined us as FD and became a fellow shareholder.  Having worked with Roger in a previous business for many years, he was a known and able man who made a strong contribution to the business (although I do have to say he seemed to operate occasionally on a unique and personal time and priority system).  We were a team that would work well together.

Over the next year or so the process of updating both the fabric of the company, its systems, procedures and equipment gradually sorted out the able employees from the also-rans.  We were pleased to be able to support and enhance the roles of those who were skilled, loyal and committed but were not sorry to wave goodbye to a few who decided they couldn’t or wouldn’t change.

When we had acquired the company we had inherited well over 1,000 customers on our sales ledger.  Following a complete strategic review, including analysis of each and every one, we found the best margins were flowing from those customers for whom we produced the most demanding and technically difficult components.  These customers also had one other characteristic in common – they all produced a final product that absolutely must not fail during life.

This review enabled us to form a strategy of concentrating on identifying, reaching and influencing those potential customers in certain key industries with the most demanding needs.  This strategy led us into major investments in new plant, equipment and engineering techniques.   But it also gave us the security that when we converted such a critical and demanding customer to our process, there simply wasn’t another company that could replace us.  We were to suffer the agonies of our largest customer (a global giant) constantly trying to replace us as a way to drive prices down,  ultimately finding that no-one else in the world could do what we did.

As we were moving towards the end of our second year we had drawn a blank in trying to find a worthwhile competitor to acquire.  Exhaustive research and meetings with a number of the most promising firms had failed to reveal anything worth acquiring.  The picture was emerging of a sector of the engineering world that was continually fighting over the same narrow amount of business for components that were traditionally made using the process of spinning.  Furthermore, the only weapon in the armoury of these firms seemed to be price.  As a consequence almost none of them were making any worthwhile profits and they hadn’t been able to invest in new equipment or techniques.  In short, they were caught in a vicious downward spiral.

Our own newly confirmed strategy seemed to make more sense than ever.  Why fight the competitors in our own sector for commodity components where prices were terrible when there was business we could win from other processes?  Yes, it would be far harder but there had to be business out there we could take from other engineering processes where we could win on technical advantage.  The opportunities were global, the challenges were significant and Roger was itching to get stuck in.

 Meanwhile, events seemed to be conspiring against me once more.  Not only was Bridgestream looking decidedly sickly but another of my investments was beginning to show signs of terminal ill health.  And then an even worst piece of news struck just after that second Christmas that had appalling potential consequences.  Malcolm telephoned to let me know that Roger had been taken seriously ill.  Just how many problems could come at the same time?

Image courtesy of thinkbrigade.com

The Business of Life Chapter 28 – when it’s so much harder than you imagined

Unlike many MBI candidates I had met or heard of who merely waited for a referral from an accountant, lawyer or VC (usually whilst they continued to job hunt) my strategy was concentrated on researching the market to find the hidden opportunities,  those businesses that had yet to be put up for sale that I could convince to sell to me.  So, I was pleased and surprised when I received a referral from KPMG to a business that they knew was being put up for sale.  My months of hard work were beginning to pay off  and it meant that I was being taken seriously as a buy-in candidate.Staying-the-Course (The Business of LIfe)

The company concerned, a paper processor, was housed in an old Yorkshire mill (yet another one) and, as the name suggested, it processed large rolls of paper into toilet rolls, kitchen paper, napkins and the like.  It also had a small trade recycling old clothing into cleaning cloths for the engineering businesses that had once been plentiful in the area (destined to become the legendary oily rags). I can’t now recall the name of the paper processing side but the rags were sold under the trade name of Hyman Wipes, something that has stayed in my memory.  Can’t think why.

My heart sank as I toured the old premises filled with machinery and employees that looked for all the world as if they were from the same vintage.  The finances were not disastrous but the business would struggle to stay healthy and there was no way that it would be able to repay the debt I would have to take on to buy the business, let alone any investment in new equipment.  However, if I could buy not just this business but one or more of its competitors then there would be considerable scope for rationalisation into a small group of businesses in the same sector (with increased profits flowing in due course).

After writing up the notes of my visit and sending these off to Phil, I set about researching competitors that would be likely targets.  I soon had a meeting organised with the owner of another paper processor that seemed a likely target.  He was wary and would not agree to my visiting his premises but instead met me at a nearby hotel.  We played cat and mouse for an hour or so but it became clear that there was not going to be a meeting of minds.  Back in my office I spent more time analysing the sector.  It was clear that the smaller companies in the paper processing industry were under attack from far larger players who would be completely out of my league as acquisition targets being mostly owned in turn by yet larger companies.  I met with Phil, took him through my findings and we agreed this was an area best left alone.

Shortly after I got a call from a partner at Grant Thornton inviting me to an event they were staging at their offices in Northampton.  The evening centred around presentations from a number of experienced representatives from corporate finance lawyers and banks.  This included some useful additional information.  But the real value of the evening was the opportunity to meet other MBI ‘wannabees’.  Many private businesses that came onto the market were retirement sales and it was not uncommon for two or more shareholding directors to be attempting to exit at the same time.  It was impossible at that stage to guess all of the possible functional skills I was going to need in a future business but it was almost certainly going to include a finance director.  So, I was delighted to meet Mark over a coffee during the mid evening break.

Mark was employed as a finance director and wished to become part of a successful MBI team.  He quickly impressed me both with his commitment and enthusiasm for our common goal and with his knowledge of corporate finance.  Some ten years my junior and with a young family, we formed an immediate bond.  With an accounting qualification and PLC experience, Mark seemed to have a good grasp of the challenges of running businesses.  Following a further meeting at which we explored each others values and beliefs in more detail we agreed to team up for the task ahead.  We were also realistic enough to agree that if either of us came across an opportunity that didn’t include the other then we would go our separate ways with no hard feelings.

Despite being based some 150 miles apart we soon fell into a productive working routine.  I continued my processes of identifying likely targets and an initial financial analysis and would send a batch of information to Mark who would challenge my assumptions and verify  (and correct, where necessary) my findings.  I was also heartened to find that Mark was able to offer pertinent comment and ask searching questions across the wider business spectrum.  Together I was convinced that we would make the core of a credible buy-in team.

Meanwhile, I had been having further meetings with 3i and formed an initial relationship and agreed a working methodology with Paul, an investment director and Mark T one of his managers.  The understanding was that I would continue my work in identifying likely targets and would bring to them a short investment proposal on short listed businesses we were intending to approach.  In this way we would know, in principle, if 3i were likely to back a serious bid.  There was a danger in this approach that had been put to me by other successful buy-in managers.  This was that there was a risk that 3i could take the opportunity and go with another (preferred) buy-in candidate leaving me empty handed. I put this possibility to one side, reasoning that I had to build a relationship with 3i that demonstrated my professionalism and commitment to them.  If I demonstrated I didn’t trust them (by floating potential deals around a selection of VCs in an effort to find the best deal as others had advised) how could I expect loyal backing from them?

Having been working on the basis that I would have to do all my own work in identifying targets, I was surprised when I received a call from Mark T.  Would I be interested in taking a look at a business (Halifax Fan) they knew was on the market?  There would be no commitment that they would either support a bid or that they would go with me in the event that they did.  We agreed to meet.  I had previously advised Mark T that, amongst a few other industries, I was specifically targeting the engineering sector.  It had already become apparent to me that many medium sized engineering companies lacked modern sales and marketing skills, often resulting in no or limited export markets.  My believe was that I would be able to bring these skills to such a business.  I was pleased to find that the company in question was an engineering business and it was based in Yorkshire.

We met at the premises of Halifax Fan for an introduction and an exploratory look at the business.  It was an interesting company that specialised in the design and manufacture of fans for a variety of industrial uses often employing unique designs for challenging applications.  It was profitable but what was really interesting was that the owner (who wished to retire) had deliberately constrained the growth of the company as he didn’t wish to have the bother of additional employees.  I could immediately see growth potential plus it also had the ability to grow via acquisition.  Having come away with a great deal of financial information I arranged a further visit to progress matters in a couple of weeks.  Meanwhile, Mark and I started work on our analysis of the financial situation and into the specialist market for industrial fans.  A further meeting with 3i soon followed where I presented our initial findings and plans and got a green light to submit a comprehensive business plan.  Following further adjustments our plan was accepted and we waited anxiously as it went to the investment committee for approval.  A week later I learned that approval had been gained and 3i submitted our joint bid to Halifax Fan.

We knew that other interested parties might be bidding and Mark and I waited anxiously once more following weeks of work.  A phone call another week later dashed our hopes.  We had been significantly outbid.  I was disappointed but I was also heartened that we had been taken seriously by 3i who took the bad news with a shrug and the question, “What else are you looking at?”  Mark and I pushed on with our list of prospects.

I had given up on the lighting industry following many unproductive approaches over the previous months but a chance conversation with an old colleague reawakened my interest.  “Do you know Neville is dying?” was the question that took me by surprise.  Neville had been a customer of mine for many years,  running a well respected lighting distribution business.  I also knew Neville well as I had taken him on a study tour of a selection of US & Canadian electrical distributors some years previously.  Notwithstanding the sensitivity of the situation, I called Neville, conveyed my sorrow at his illness and best wishes and after a brief conversation said I would like to buy his business.  My approach was referred to his chairman who I met some days later and learnt that the business had already been put discretely on the market.  My pitch of venture capital backing, knowledge of the business and personal credentials succeeded in gaining me an acceptance into the process.

Over the next few weeks I met with the management team, collected information,  visited the retail operations they had and burned the midnight oil with Mark carrying out detailed analysis and pulling together our basic financial projections.  We then applied various sensitivity exercises to stress test the model before I wrote up a very detailed business plan which I submitted to 3i.  We agreed an offer, the plan went off to the investment committee and, once approved, our bid was submitted.  I knew that our price was realistic and our plans (including selling off the retail side and acquiring other distributors) were rational.  I had even found time to approach and have initial discussions with our first post acquisition target.  However, a few weeks later our hopes were dashed once more as we received the news that a trade competitor had outbid us by 100%!

During this period (mid 1996) I was still processing large numbers of potential acquisition targets through my financial and strategic appraisal model.  Following this latest setback, I stepped up the pace, extending my networking and research activities.  Over the next six months we worked on dozens more potential targets, analysing them and their markets and got down to the shortlist with several others only to miss out to trade buyers who, once more, heavily outbid us.  It was clear that although many trade buyers had no magic dust to sprinkle on a business they did have the ability to carry out immediate rationalisation and effect synergies with their existing operations.  I was confident that my development plans for our targets were sound and we also had a ‘Buy & Build’ post acquisition strategy to acquire other competitors.  The problem was that we couldn’t (and 3i weren’t prepared to support) pricing the benefits of a potential subsequent acquisition into our initial bid.  I knew this made sense as it would have raised the risk factor sky high.

As 1996 drew to a close I realised I had spent 18 months working to buy a substantial business using venture capital.  I had spent months in the most intensive efforts to locate and analysis targets, reviewing hundreds of businesses in the process.  I had become increasingly more creative in my approaches to extend my networking and increasingly more professional in my research, analysis techniques and business planning.  I had been almost to the altar on three occasions only to be heavily outbid.  Attempting to buy businesses from larger companies was also not working as, once more, competitors were willing and able to pay far higher prices.

So, at the end of my first full calendar year there had been no result.  Instead I was beginning to experience growing tension between the work necessary to bring a suitable target deal to completion & the mundane task of earning money.  To put matters in perspective I was earning at a rate that was acceptable but I knew I could be very much more successful at the role of consultant if I didn’t have to spend time chasing acquisition targets.  On the other hand, buying a business was my unwavering goal but I couldn’t spend the time at it that I needed because of the need to earn money.  This tension was made all the worse by my practice of doing whatever I attempted to the best of my ability.

Before Christmas closed the business world down for the holidays, I put together a detailed presentation for Paul at 3i laying out everything I had done with a detailed appraisal of what was working and what wasn’t and reconfirmation of my goal of acquiring an engineering business.  When we met I shared with him the frustration I had in being diverted from the task by needing to earn money but ended with a commitment to bring them a deal we could complete together in 1997.

The Christmas holiday was a welcome break with the family but it proved just too tempting to continue working as my goal was constantly at the front of my mind.  I couldn’t remember wanting anything in business as much as I wanted this.  I knew I could succeed as a consultant but, although I enjoyed the work and gave it everything I had in the time available, it really wasn’t what I wanted to do long term.  It was becoming brutally clear that I had entered a marathon not a quick sprint.  Could I stay the course in the year ahead?  Or was I chasing rainbows?

 Image courtesy of thebridgemaker.com

The Business of Life Chapter 27 – no way back

Some people would say that it was madness, but I found it liberating to know that I had blocked off an escape route and that the only way was forward.  Having withdrawn from the job search process and informed head hunters I was out of the game, I had but one goal and that was to achieve a management buy-in (MBI).  To facilitate this process I had to earn just enough to support the household and preserve my savings for the stake I would need for my share of equity.  As John Major resigned the leadership of the Conservative Party to trigger a leadership election in June 1995, thus burning bridges in the hope of winning party support, I made my own play for future success.  My bid was rather less exalted but it was critical to me and had a similar air of ‘do or die’.No Way Back

A corporate finance partner at Grant Thornton I had met during the due diligence process at Selmar was my initial port of call.  “Why do you want to do this?” he enquired when I had finished laying out my plans.  “Because I can be a whole lot more successful at running businesses than most of the clowns I’ve worked for!”  “Wrong!” he shot back at me, “You stand in front of a venture capitalist and tell him that and you’re finished.”  I felt perplexed and my look must have revealed my confusion.  “You’re doing it for the money, you want to make shedloads of money for yourself and for them.  That’s what they want to hear.”

My first task was to commence my own due diligence on the process of achieving an MBI.  I started this by talking to several contacts, eitherold or new, who had managed to get VC backing to either buy-out (MBO) or buy-in to business.  Their advice was interesting but the one phrase that struck me as invaluable given my own experience with cash was, “Never buy what you can borrow and never borrow what you can steal!”

An essential element I absolutely had to ensure was in place was a contingent fee arrangement with a firm of accountants and a lawyer firm.  To get a deal to completion meant accounts and lawyers putting a great deal of hours on the clock for both accounting and legal due diligence plus all the work on the finances, deal structure and the sale & purchase agreement.  These costs would run to hundreds of thousands of pounds and without this ‘no win, no fee’ arrangement in place, failure to complete a deal would ruin me.  In the deal-charged environment of the 90’s all of the major accounting and law firms realised that without such an arrangement the deals would simply never happen.  The quid pro quo was an acceptance by VCs that transaction fees would be inflated for success.  It was a feeding frenzy.

The combination of my approaches and CV got me meetings with the corporate finance partners of every major accounting and law firm I approached.  A vast amount of highly practical advice flowed from these meetings, which was adding to my rapidly growing knowledge of the intricacies of the MBI process.  All lost no time in telling me how difficult it was to achieve and how risky it was to buy a company as an outsider, “You just won’t know where the skeletons will fall out of the cupboards!”  Knowing that it was going to be a lengthy and fraught process, the key aspect both parties were assessing was the personal chemistry.  There had to be mutual respect and trust, something that I was well aware of, but something that would also be brought into a stark spotlight in the future.  The result of many meetings was an agreement of backing from KPMG and Pinsent Curtis both in Leeds.

With one vital building block in place I started contacting all of the major VC firms.  Again I succeeded in achieving meetings at director level with every firm I approached.  The choice of equity partner transcended almost every other consideration.  Yes, you would share equity in a deal but management equity was a very subordinate animal to that held by a VC.  I knew that all firms could and would be ruthless in the event of non-performance but there were other considerations that I knew to be critical.  Most of the firms I talked to had a strict policy of exiting from their investments within a set time period, being driven by the way they raised finance.  I had met one management team who had almost been sunk by being forced to refinance as a result when their business was going through an appalling difficult period.

The one exception to this almost cast iron rule was 3i whose policy was that management drove the timing of exit.  With its roots in the Industrial and Commercial Financial Corporation and the Finance Corporation for Industry going back to 1945, 3i had probably more experience and understanding of financing private businesses than any other VC.  I had had a welcome and very useful initial talk with the head of the Leeds office and, following all of my other meetings, I decided that I simply had to get 3i backing.  The head of the Leeds office was Jonathan Russell (who went on to become a main board director) and underlying his smooth and urbane appearance and warm welcome was a very shrewd businessman.  After I had filled him in on my success in getting contingent fee arrangements in place with KPMG & Pinsents, he leaned back in his chair, nodded and enquired, “Anyway, how’s your job search going?”

This wasn’t a trap I was ever in danger of falling into and took delight in firing back, “I don’t have a job hunt.  I’ve closed all the corporate doors and I’m going to succeed in achieving an MBI with you.  That is my future.”  I was then vetted by Patrick Dunne (who ran their MBO / MBI programme) in London and was then able to benefit from the vast knowledge 3i had gained in this sector.  From their research I was able to ascertain just how many MBI candidates there were in the country attempting to achieve the same goal as me.  Comparing this number (over 2,000 from memory) with the number of deals actually completed each year (210 in 1994) was, at face value, disheartening.  Of these only 28 were MBI transactions that had been completed!  When I considered the reasoning behind Jonathan’s question about my job search and added this to the knowledge I had gained so far I realised that the odds were better than the apparent 1.4%.  Clearly some of the c2000 executives seeking a deal would also form part of a team of 2 or more.  I also knew from my research so far that the majority of people who claimed they had a goal of an MBI merely waited for the deal community to throw up an introduction to a potential transaction.  I had already decided that I wasn’t going to sit around waiting for a deal to show up, I was going to make it happen.  When I added this self-sufficiency to my competitiveness and determination, I decided the odds were rather better at around 8~10% pa.  Good enough for me.

I started work on a methodology for searching for suitable targets.  The advice I had been given so far was to buy a dog.  What was meant by this was buying a failing business and turning it around would yield fantastic returns.  The problem I envisaged with this approach was that the margin for error narrowed to almost zero.  Problems come from all angles even in a good business that one knows well but buying into a failing business raised the stakes dramatically.  No, I decided, I would buy a profitable business even if the price was higher but it wouldn’t be balanced on a knife edge from day one.  The obvious approach would be to attempt to buy a business in a sector where I was experienced, so the lighting industry had to be on my target list and I started making approaches to all my contacts in this sector.

I had drawn up a list of ideal criteria for a target company and this included:

  • Privately owned
  • No more than 3 shareholders and ideally same as directors
  • In business for between 15~30 years (potential retirement sale)
  • Turnover between £3m~£25m
  • Profitable and cash generative
  • Engineering, industrial manufacturing or distribution
  • Were differentiated in some way (or could be)
  • Had growth potential.

Obviously businesses in declining sectors were out and I also decided that I would have nothing to do with those selling consumer products into high street retailers.  I new that Companies House had all the information required to ascertain if the first 6 criteria could be fulfilled for a small fee.  However, there is no way one can carry out a criteria based search from this source (needles and haystacks).  However, I knew that there were many credit agencies and other research companies who bought the entire information from Companies House and compiled databases that could be searched by criteria.  Their fees were beyond me though.

Leeds business library proved to be an excellent halfway house for the information I required.  It had research reports on a vast number of UK business sectors and it had searchable databases that would give me a snapshot of likely companies.  In addition, the cost of information was only £0.10 a page.  I would blitz a business and geographic sector and come away with a single page on each of around 200 companies.  Returning to my office at home I would wade through this information refining it down into a short list of 20 to 30.  I would then arrange a meeting with Phil, the corporate finance partner at KPMG and we would then discuss each one and agree a final list of 10 to15.  Phil would then get one of his team to run off a complete financial history for the last 5~10 years in great detail for each one.

Back in my office I would then input all of the resulting data into a large spreadsheet model I had developed that would produce key ratios, further analysis and graphs.  The resulting report I produced for each company showed at a glance a clear picture of the health of each business plus all of the relevant trends.  I would put together any further information I could gather as desk research and then get together with Phil to review the results.  These reports together with our discussions enabled us to whittle the list down to 5 to 8 key targets.  Having discussed the various ways of approaching these targets Phil counselled that we would get a better response if he approached each company saying that he had a client with funding in place who was interested in a purchase.

Whilst carrying out this research I had been working my way through all of the potential businesses I knew in the lighting industry that were worth an approach.  I had meetings with a number of potential targets but despite serious interest from the owners there was really nothing worth pursuing.  I was waiting to hear of the results from the initial batch of letters Phil had sent out when he gave me a call and suggested we meet.  He explained he had information on a paper processing business that was for sale and he could introduce me if I was interested?

Was I interested!  After months of work I was off running with a lead on a business that was for sale.  Would it shape up?  Could I pull off a deal?

 Image courtesy of http://www.virtualdjradio

The Business of Life Chapter 25 – when it’s time to pick yourself up

The flight back from Geneva that evening gave me some time and space to get my thoughts together.  There was none of the rage I had felt when I had been fired from Akai 13 years previously.  Instead, what I felt was a mix of great relief and sadness.  The sense of relief had been something I expected, as working for Norman and Eddie would have filled me with horror.  This feeling was vindicated later that same year when a friendly head hunter shared his experience of dealing with Norman  But more of that in due course.

The sadness was an unexpected sensation.  I had spent all those years working for a company in roles that had provided me with enormous challenges, to which I had usually been able to rise.  The company had given me a superb business education, which I have since come to realise was peerless.  It had also provided me with rich and complex problems on which to apply my new found knowledge.  I still count some of the solutions I arrived at to be amongst the greatest successes of my career.  It was sad that middle management had not always been able to step back from their personal positions and embrace a new reality.  Strategic thinking had been subordinated to the protection of personal gain in many cases.  Nevertheless, I knew I was going to miss the company, the challenges it had provided and the people; even the ones who had frustrated the hell out of me.

One worry luckily I didn’t have was financial.  At least I was confident that I would find the next position before money became a problem.  With the savings I had accumulated and the severance pay I had received life wouldn’t be too bad.  I was under no illusions though as the UK was still recovering from a nasty recession.  For the moment I put that from my mind as I had more immediate matters to deal with.  I had an apartment in Geneva with more stuff accumulated over the previous year than would fit into a suitcase and I had to get it back home.  I made plans to drive over in a few days.  Speaking to a couple of my old team I discovered that they had already had a farewell lunch together but on hearing I was returning for a couple of days they decided to do it all over again – with me.

So, after a few days catching up on my sleep and delighting in being back home with Denise, I headed back over the Channel and through France to Geneva for the last time.  The lunch was bitter-sweet.  I was touched that they were all prepared to give up their time to meet with me once more.  It was apparent though that a number felt a lot less philosophical about the situation than me and it was clear that at least a couple were going to find it very tough to get another position as good as the one they had lost.  One saving grace for them was that Swiss welfare payments were a whole lot more generous than the UK but only for a time.  When the hugs and kisses were over we went our individual ways and I began the long drive back.

Back home in Yorkshire my first priority was to shake off the excesses of too many meals and probably too much to drink.  So, Tilly our Rottweiler joined me for long jogs across the moors around our home and gradually I began to feel good both physically and mentally.  Without a break I started work full time on the hunt for the next position.  In the following 6 months I travelled 20,000 miles attending interviews, networking and researching the market.  Contacts I had made were unstinting with their time and advice and the many head hunters I either approached afresh or renewed acquaintance with were generally extremely helpful.  Together with the advice I had previously received from Max, I was becoming more focussed and more professional in my approach.

Discussing the very exact profile a client had drawn up for a position I was reviewing with an extremely helpful recruitment consultant he suddenly enquired, “It was the same Norman that had run FKI that bought your old company, wasn’t it?”  When I nodded he went on, “God you had a lucky escape!  I had a brush with him a few years back.  He contacted me and said he was looking for half a dozen MDs.  Well”, he went on, “I thought Christmas had come early, so I asked Norman to let me have candidate profiles and I’d get back to him with a plan and an invoice for the amount we charge upfront.”  It seems Norman had responded, “Don’t waste my time with stuff like that, just get me the candidates and I’ll see if I like any of them.”

Things were certainly a lot tougher than they had been the last time I was ‘between positions’.  I was that much older, that much more senior and the number of openings higher up the greasy pole were that much fewer.  It became clear quite quickly that, despite my extensive contacts, I wasn’t going to walk into a senior role in the industry I had just left.  I think I was known as someone with strong views and a different perspective on things and that didn’t appeal to many.  In any case longevity in position was a hallmark of the industry I had been in and there was no game of musical chairs to join in.  Moving industries once again looked the most likely route back into gainful employment.  This bothered me not one jot as I had already worked in 6 diverse sectors and had found problems were invariably generic.

Drawing on the experiences I had accrued in my role in Geneva I reflected on the behavioural skill set that my role had really needed.  When I compared this with the psychometric feedback I had received over the previous few years, I realised that I had really been a square peg trying to fit a round whole.  Whilst the experience and knowledge I possessed had been more than sufficient for the role, my behavioural profile lacked the key political skills required.  I had the influencing skill alright but I clearly lacked what Phil Thurston at Harvard had referred to as ‘rat like cunning’.  My first approach to a problem or resistance was usually to summon the power of logic and rationality.  If that didn’t work I rarely shied away from a full blown, full frontal attack.  I could build and receive the loyalty and support of a team, I could understand the biggest of pictures and what was required to solve the underlying problems.  Yes, there was much I could learn of politics but, as I saw things, I was far more suited to leading than being led.

But my mind was beginning to move in a different direction.  During the final months in Geneva I had started to think of working alone as a consultant and had sounded out a few people I knew who had created successful careers in this way.  The advice had been to specialise rather than risk being known as a jack of all trades.  The obvious specialism was marketing strategy and I was pondering the prospect of setting up and promoting my own business when, in one of those amazingly serendipitous moments, my phone rang.

The call was from Gerard, the finance director of an old customer I had known for many years whilst with SylvaniaUK.  He explained that they had a problem he felt I might be able to assist with.  Was I interested in meeting to discuss the situation?  A few days later I travelled down to Croydon to meet Gerard and Steve, the MD of Jerrard Bros PLC.  The company had been founded by Steve’s father and uncle, had done well for many years but now required a new supplier of a key product.  Would I help them?  I said I would let them have a proposal.  During the visit it became clear that the company had reached a plateau over the previous few years and I probed for reasons.  I said I would also let them have some thoughts on working with them to address this issue also.  A couple of weeks later and after some good natured negotiation we had a business relationship based on two projects.

Almost straightaway I received two more approaches for significant projects and following discussions, proposals and more negotiations I found myself engaged to complete both.  One was a feasibility study for a foreign manufacturer looking to enter the UK market and the other was assisting a company looking to acquire one of my old, major competitors.  Very quickly I became extremely busy and drew a halt to any idea of seeking a new employed role.  I revelled in the freedom of working on projects that interested me at my own pace (although to agreed deadlines).   By now it was summer and I fell into a routine that, when I wasn’t travelling, I often cycled long distances in the Dales.  I would start early and return by midday and then work through until mid evening.  I had always found cycling conducive to thought and now I could actually keep fit whilst doing something I really enjoyed and apply my mind to various problems at the same time.

During my job hunting process I had followed a highly targeted approach seeking opportunities that had not even been advertised.  Each day I would scour the business press looking for news items concerning major companies that were either contemplating or had made major investments or acquisitions.  Whenever I came across a situation where I felt I could add value I would write to the chairman or chief executive (often to their home address so my letter wouldn’t be screened by a secretary).  I would either compliment them on their success or wish them luck with their plans and then spell a short but precisely targeted couple of sentences laying out how my experience could assist.  I would follow these letters up with a call aiming to achieve a meeting.  Several of these approaches got me in front of senior people.  I hadn’t succeeded in getting a new job from this approach but I decided I could use the experience to win new clients.

Another opportunity for creativity had arisen when I lost out after being down to the final two for a position running a national chain of builders’ merchants.  Having invested the time to carry out a great deal of background research on the firm and its competitors I thought it would be foolish to waste it.  I called the new MD, introduced myself as the guy who came second, congratulated him and suggested we meet as I had a proposition.  He was sufficiently intrigued to agree to meet me.  When we met I made the suggestion that as he was busy getting to grips with a big new role there was a way I could help.  He listened very carefully to what I had to say about the industry, the position of his company and the issues I had identified.  He considered for what seemed an age and then said he would be pleased to receive a proposal.  I went away and submitted a detailed proposal for a very focussed consultancy project.  He accepted but not before something else got in the way.

Towards the end of my period of applying for jobs I met a head hunter with whom I had established a good relationship.  Out of the blue he called me months later to say he had an assignment he felt was well suited to my experience.  We met and I listened to the facts he laid before me.  His client was Ross Group a small UK PLC with a number of businesses in electrical products.  They were seeking an MD for one of the group companies, Selmar Industries, itself a group of three businesses manufacturing in West Yorkshire.  The previous MD had departed after running up losses of £3.0m.  Smelling a dead horse, I declined to take matters further.  However, a couple of weeks later he was back on the phone pushing me to meet the Group MD at the company’s factory, “It’s just down the road from you, I’m sure you’ll get on famously with Neil and if you still decide it’s till not for you, well fine.”

The following week I duly arrived at Selmar’s factory, which was housed in old mill premises in a tight, wooded valley on the outskirts of Brighouse.  My heart sank; it looked a tip.  However, my head hunter chum was right about Neil with whom I quickly established a rapport.  He had also worked in major corporations and there was a basic understanding between us over how businesses should be run.  Nevertheless, after several hours of discussions I politely declined to take matters any further.  A week later Neil came on the phone to chat and pressed me to meet the chairman, “Nothing to lose, see what he has to say, eh?”  A long trip down to Basingstoke the following week produced a firm offer, which I rejected.  They responded with an improvement and promises.  By this stage, I have to admit, it had become something of a game, so I pushed on and won more concessions.  Finally I accepted but not before I had negotiated approval to continue my work with Jerrard Bros.

I was back running a group of businesses and was confident that I could improve them.  Would it work out?  Or had my pugnacious nature set me up for trouble again?

 Image courtesy of Eliasbadi.com

The business of life (chapter 19 – the end of a dream)

With my wife recuperating from her major operation and my business life far from stable, I had to develop a strategy that would allow the greatest chance of keeping everything together.  Once again I cancelled business trips and kept close to home until Jean could achieve what she considered was sufficient strength to resume some semblance of daily life.  Work was now out of the question for her and with it the dream of a degree that she had tasted all too briefly. I found strength for myself in a process of compartmentalisation.  By dividing my life into discrete segments I tried to preserve time for the things that were important in my life; time for Jean, for the children, for work and lastly for myself (cycling and playing trumpet in a terrible but enthusiastic band).

By the time Brian had moved on leaving the role of managing director of GTE Sylvania vacant, I felt I was holding the constituent parts of my life together.  Jean had encouraged me to apply for the job and I was awaiting news of the procedure.  My probing had revealed that there were at least 4 other candidates from within the global company but evidence of a selection process appeared non-existent.  Finally, I got a call to advise me that Gregg, the European President was coming to the UK, would interview me and then join the rest of the senior UK team for dinner.

I collected Gregg from the airport and drove him to The Devonshire Arms, a beautiful country hotel in the Yorkshire Dales that he enjoyed.  I had known him for approximately 6 years, although not closely.  I was aware he was a lifelong employee of the company, possessed of a mercurial attitude to the business (you never knew where he was going next) and a volcanic temper.  Seated in the elegant lounge with our coffee, Gregg got around to what passed for an interview and demonstrated that, whatever other skills he possessed, interviewing was not one of them.  It was like playing a game against a competitor who had no real experience or skill and didn’t want to be on the court.  Frustration (and more than a little doubt) was beginning to rise in me when we were interrupted by a call for Gregg and he excused himself to take it in his room.

What seemed an eternity passed while Gregg was on the phone and it gave ample opportunity for my fears and doubts to surface.  By this time I had spent 6 years with the company and had achieved significant success but had not returned to a full general management role. I was also 41 and one year behind the schedule I had set myself of attaining an MD’s role.  The thought of working under any of the other candidates filled me with gloom and I realised that I was going to have to leave if this appointment went against me.  Gregg then returned and shared with me that one of his oldest friends had died suddenly.  “Ah hell, you just never know what life is going to throw at you.” he said shaking his head and then, slowly looking at me with tears in his eyes, “Look, I’m going to give you the job.”  The evening went by in a blur shared with my colleagues at least two of whom had emerged unsuccessful.  Celebration at home later that evening was a quiet and emotional hug.

Margaret Thatcher was elected to a third term and Ronald Reagan was challenging Mikhail Gorbachev to tear down the Berlin wall when I took up my new appointment.  One of my first duties was to sign a flurry of papers legally registering my appointment.  I don’t know if it was an error or a quirk of the corporate structure but I realised before I got to the bottom of the pile that I had also been appointed as MD of the ultimate UK holding company encompassing the complex web of businesses we then owned.  Technically I was now Brian’s boss.  I did a quick mental exercise and realised that, despite this, there were still ten layers of management between me and the president of GTE!  Flat management we did not have.

Life working for Gregg was never easy.  As he was based in our European headquarters in Geneva, I might go for several months without a meeting with him.  When we did meet either on one of his UK visits or at a pan-European meeting he always wanted a formal presentation.  He always travelled with one of his team and he would simply never sit and discuss subjects with you.  His style was that you either submitted to an inquisition on a subject of his choosing or, if you went to him with a proposal he would either attack it or ensure that you made a decision and not him.    He had a combative style, which may have been associated with his lack of height (around 5′ 5″) and, given he had one glass eye, you never knew if you had his attention or not.  The only time you ever got an easy ride was when he fell asleep in a meeting after lunch.

The time I loathed most was the day following one of Gregg’s board meetings in Italy.   We had a joint venture with Thorn in a manufacturing company there and Hamish, the Thorn MD, would usually succeed in winding Gregg up with a pack of half-truths or downright lies about our UK business.  I would then get a call the following day that interrupted my lunch in the staff canteen and would have to suffer Gregg for the next half hour bellowing down the phone at me on some issue that had been fed to him.

Being promoted ahead of my colleagues within the company I had worked within for years was a new situation.  All of my peers knew me well but not as their boss and I realised that, even putting the situation with Martyn to one side, they may not have welcomed my appointment.  I decided that this was irrelevant as my new role required a fresh start.  I had admired Brian and worked hard for him but I had to pursue my own style.  The first change I made was in not moving into Brian’s old corner office suite but staying put in my own.  Our margins were under pressure at this stage and it provided me with an excuse to not replace my previous position of Marketing Director.  The format of our management and board meetings I changed and was scrupulous in playing the role of chairman / facilitator.  I found that, with a combination of ensuring everyone’s full contribution and a variety of problem solving tools, we could resolve previously difficult issues with the team invariably making a unanimous decision without me having to reveal an opinion.

Worried about morale within the company, I instigated a company wide climate survey.  Results showed that the number one issue was a distrust of management, with a widely held belief that employees were not being consulted or informed on key issues.  Following discussion amongst my senior team, we agreed that I should speak to the entire company, share the survey results and ask for volunteers to join teams, to address each of the key issues (they had all recently been trained in problem solving techniques).  On the day of the meeting I made the assembled employees a number of promises.  Firstly, I would only hear the findings or recommendations at the same time they did.  I would also agree to any recommendation the teams made so long as the cost did not exceed our local country budget level, or contravene international corporate policy (if a recommendation did, I undertook to sell it to our company president).

I seemed to hold my breath for the next month, staying away from any of the team meetings and did not quiz any of my direct reports as to progress.  We assembled in the staff canteen on the day the results were due and the atmosphere I can only describe as electric.  Would the employees pressure for unrealistic changes?  Would my team leaders have handled the process democratically?  One by one each of the four teams presented their analysis and their recommendations.  I need not have worried.  The changes requested were surprisingly modest and reasonable and after asking further questions I was delighted to say, “OK, go ahead and implement everything and you will all receive regular feedback on progress.”  I learnt that together we could build a much more decentralised style of management, enabling us to make significant progress.  It also taught me a lot about trust and it taught me to empathise more with the feelings and views of the entire company.

We made rapid progress and my first year as MD ended strongly and over budget.  The new structure within the sale team seemed to be working better and emphasis on refining the customer groups we worked with was producing improved margins.  However, despite this and the more harmonious climate amongst the management team, I was sad to receive Martyn’s resignation.  He had received a good offer and had made up his mind to go; all I could do was to wish him well.  I missed him but it was almost fifteen years before we met again and resumed our friendship but that’s another tale.  Sad as I was to see Martyn depart another event proved shattering and changed me forever.

Despite battling on and regaining some semblance of normality following her operation for a brain tumour, Jean had entered a slow decline.  One Sunday morning driving herself back from church just half a mile down the road she lost control of her car, hit the kerb and came back complaining of severe pain in her neck.  Urgent investigation showed that the cancer had spread to multiple sections of her spine, which then severely restricted her ability to be mobile.  We made enquiries and managed to move Jean into a Marie Curie hospice a short distance from our house where she spent the remainder of that summer.  The staff were angels, caring for her constantly but her decline was relentless and one night in late September whilst I was by her side she passed away.

We had been married for twenty years and neither my two children nor I knew how we were going to face life without her.

The business of life (chapter 12 – achievements grow but so does the stress)

On May 3rd 1979 a lady named Margret Thatcher won the UK General Electionwith a Conservative majority of 43 seats.  I had taken relatively little interest in politics up until this point, the economic upheavals of the 70’s scarcely touching my life (apart from the horrendous queues for petrol during the Arab oil embargo, the opportunistic but deeply unpatriotic miners’ strike and the power cuts).  However, I was aware that things had to change or Britain would be consigned to economic oblivion and with it all hopes for my career.  The events that followed caused me to believe that Maggie had brought me some luck along with her own (at least for a while).

Margaret Thatcher wins in ’79

The weeks dragged on with no news of Akai’s plans for their own company.  Sugino had gone to ground and wasn’t returning calls.  Surely they would want to retain the people who had turned around the UK business?  I wanted to hope that this was the case but it seemed that a wall of silence had descended over the situation.  Meanwhile, I applied internally for the position of business development manager for the division.  Whilst I knew that I wasn’t ideally qualified for the role, I considered that I had convincingly demonstrated my ability to adapt and learn fast.  However, I wasn’t prepared for the brusque treatment I received from our personnel director when interviewed.  It was if he was merely going through the motions having already decided I wasn’t right for the role.  Curious.

The mists cleared some days later when I received a call from a member of the Akai management who introduced himself as Yokose.  He was inLondon and would appreciate a meeting at his hotel; was I free that afternoon?  Yokose transpired to be a short, slightly built man in his early forties with an intense manner.  He got straight to the point; would I join the new company? I replied that I would consider the role of managing director (my natural competitiveness quickly resurfacing).  “Ah, so sorry,” Yokose responded with a curious smile, “not possible.  Other roles are possible. What you wish.”  Assuming that it would be Yokose himself in the role of MD and more of a titular head, I proposed the role of general manager.  “This one would be possible,” was the response, “but cannot include sales.”

During the course of the afternoon I found that Yokose had already spoken with Andy and appointed him sales manager. This was not something that pleased me as I had an uneasy feeling about Andy.  Putting this concern aside (his appointment being a fait accompli) it was clear that I was wanted and so I negotiated hard on my package.  I won a significant salary & pension increase and a large new executive car.  I agreed to start work at once on the detailed planning for the new company; a very tight schedule was in prospect.  Back at the office I met with Andy and discovered that he had no more information than me.  Putting my reservations over Andy to one side, I asked him to start work on the sales projections so that I would have a basis for the detailed financial planning that was urgently required.  It soon became apparent that a significant investment was going to be required by Akai to set up the company and fund the planned growth. “Not problem.” was the response I got from Yokose a week later when I put the initial projections to him, “Please to proceed, much haste.”

Gordon’s secretary rang when I returned to the office saying that he wanted to see me immediately.  Wondering where he had been hiding for the last few weeks I took a welcome break from the planning and went up to his office where I was greeted by an unusually jovial Gordon.  Ushering me quickly into his office, he made sure the door was firmly closed before turning to me. “Welcome aboard.” he grinned.  I gave myself a mental kicking for not having worked this one out.  Given that Gordon’s role as divisional MD covered an extensive range of RAV businesses I had not assumed for one moment he would leave to head up Akai.  It wasn’t until some time later when I had to have the full details to complete the business plan that I realised just how good a deal Gordon had negotiated.  However, given Gordon’s hands-off operational style, his devotion to networking and a penchant for very long lunches (and dinners) it seemed I would continue to have a great deal of operational freedom.  Yokose was going to join us as a UK based non-executive (sadly, it wouldn’t be long before he had earned my private nickname of tachograph).

Despite keeping his head down whilst negotiating his exit package from RAV, Gordon had already used his film industry contacts to find us premises.  Our new company home was to be in  the Production Village, a television studio and entertainment complex in Cricklewood set up by Samuelsons (manufacturers of film equipment) in a part of the disused Handley Page factory.  These premises seemed to be entirely in keeping with the image I was striving to build for the brand.  I set about recruiting the remainder of the team we required, setting up systems and leasing cars (Gordon having already lined up a Mercedes 450 SE for himself).

The bad news was discovering, despite Yokose’s prior assurances, that Akai’s capital injection into the new UK company was completely inadequate for our needs.  This news meant that we required a substantial amount of working capital at commencement and growing steadily to finance the growth we had planned.  Despite Akai’s success in Europe they had never succeeded to the same extent in the USA where they trailed significantly behind Pioneer and sold largely under the Roberts brand.  It transpired that the US swallowed up large amounts of Akai’s financial resources.  Following many negotiation with our bank they agreed to fund the working capital at start up providing the Tokyo parent company assumed responsibility for our UK borrowings.  This was negotiated and allowed us to start trading but I was involved from this point on with constant re-budgeting, presenting in Tokyo, going back to the bank and starting all over again.

With largely a new team in place, we started the Akai UK business in a blaze of publicity.  With a marketing budget well in excess of £1m I had no shortage of funds.  In another of those serendipitous moments our advertising agency found that Manhattan Transfer were about to tour the UK and we moved quickly to tie up a deal with their agent as sponsors. The sponsorship deal gave us the right to use the group for television and radio commercials in addition to personal appearances.  A TV commercial was fleshed out, Bray Studios booked and we managed to secure the direction of Ridley Scott (fresh from his success with Alien). In one exhausting session of almost 18 hours the Akai commercial was shot (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XwYldNBNB-c and proved to be incredibly successful in boosting the image and awareness of the brand.  Radio advertisements followed quickly plus some absolutely hilarious personalised dealer radio advertisements ad-libbed by the group.

In parallel I progressed work on a launch party and secured The Talk of The Town just off Leicester Square in London plus the services of Michael Aspel as compère for the evening.  With hundreds of our customers and their guests gathered in this great venue we put on a magnificent show including Richard Lloyd and his racing car rising out of the stage in a very noisy finale.  After just a few hours sleep, and still exhausted, I flew off to Florida with my wife and children for a blissful couple of weeks in the sunshine.

Akai Audi 80

Akai Audi 80

Back in London I started work on our plans for the following year.  Richard Lloyd had negotiated a switch to Audi for the 1980 season and our sponsorship continued.   In an incredible piece of good fortune we managed to sponsor Stirling Moss’s return to motor racing as the number two driver to Richard.  Ex Porsche works driver Vic Elford was recruited to be team manager. Sensing that we had to do something spectacular for the launch, I engaged a production crew to shoot footage of Richard and Stirling driving at Silverstone and commissioned what I believe to be the first ever multi-screen film (nine moving images on one screen).  A press launch took place at The Production Village next to our offices for the Akai Audi team of Richard & Stirling.  Every TV and radio company was handed film and soundtrack and it proved so successful that it produced over £3m worth of TV, radio and press coverage in just one week.

Alan Jones

Word of our sponsorship activities was spreading fastproducing dozens of approaches, most quickly discarded, but there was one approach that also stood out head and shoulders above the rest.  Alan Jones, a new Australian Formula One driver, was looking for personal sponsorship and we did a two year deal with our brand on his helmet. During 1980, Alan went on to win grand prix races in Argentina,Great Britain,Canada and theUnited States, making him the World Champion ahead of Nelson Pique; the publicity for us was wonderful.   A sponsorship deal with Kork Ballington (double World Champion 250 & 350cc) and Kawasaki soon followed.

Kork Ballington

The media coverage continued to flow and an invitation to join the Akai team at racetracks around the country became very sought after.  That summer almost every weekend was spent entertaining our dealers and sales rose steadily along with the hours I was putting in each week.  The acquisition of a large Kawasaki soon had me roaring around the Oxfordshire lanes frightening the life out of my young son who clung on behind for dear life.

Hearing Barry Sheene (500cc World Champion in 1976 & 77) was departing the Suzuki works teamand competing alone on a Yamaha; we leapt in to conclude a deal for sponsorship of Barry and his bike (including a replica for use in promotions).  All of this sponsorship was accomplished at incredibly advantageous rates and proved spectacularly popular with our target market.

Barry Sheen

Barry Sheen

Another major project I had running at the same time was that of locating new premises and organising the move.  We were existing only by subcontracting warehousing, distribution and servicing and this couldn’t continue.  I located a new industrial unit and offices located at the eastern end of the runway at Heathrow, signed the lease and set about planning the layout and organising furniture, phones, warehouse and service department equipment.  The move shortened my commute but now every weekend was spent at one motorsport venue or another around the country or entertaining customers (often in the company of various celebrities of the day).  Sales were still climbing but the personal strain was enormous.

By this time I was working 80~90 hour, 7 day weeks and this pattern, together with other aspects of my personal life, was taking a toll on my marriage.

Something had to give.

Margaret Thatcher image courtesy Daily Mail, Akai Audi 80 image courtesy of Spirit.com, Alan Jones image courtesy of Morem Sports History, Barry Sheene image courstesy of Wikipedia Commons