Those who have studied modern technology based or enabled companies will doubtless consider Platform Capitalism to be superficial. Srnicek does not provide any worked through suggestions that will be useful either to the makers of public policy or to those involved in the management of business and many of his conclusions are contentious and appear to be based more on his prior left-wing accelerationist philosophical position than on the evidence presented in this book.
And yet: the book is interesting and thought provoking. Leaving aside the eccentric use (or, rather, minimal use) of paragraphing, Srnicek has an engaging style and presents a readable and helpful overview of the impact of technology on economic activity and of the strategy of technology companies. The book is short (l29 small pages) and can easily be read carefully in a couple of evenings. It is worth devoting this time to it.
Srnicek’s subject is the effect of digital technology on capitalism. He claims that “the platform” has emerged as a new business model and his aim is “to set these platforms in the context of a larger economic history, understand them as a means to generate profit, and outline some tendencies they produce as a result” (page 6). After a reasonably orthodox (if very obviously left-wing) review of economic and business trends since the 1970’s (primarily focussed on the USA and UK), he moves on to consider the emergence of “platforms”, which he defines as “digital infrastructures that enable two or more groups to interact” (page 43). He distinguishes five types of these: advertising platforms (e.g. the Google search engine), which allow their owners to extract information on users, undertake analysis, and use the product of this to sell advertising space; cloud platforms (e.g. Amazon Web Services), which comprise hardware and software that is rented out to digital-dependent businesses; industrial platforms (e.g. that of GE), which comprise the hardware and software necessary to transform traditional manufacturing; product platforms (e.g. that of Rolls Royce), which transform a traditional good into a service; and lean platforms (e.g. that of Uber), which are like product platforms but whose owners attempt to reduce their ownership of assets to a minimum.
The analysis of each of these business models is much the most interesting part of Platform Capitalism. Srnicek concludes, perhaps surprisingly, that lean platforms “seem likely to fall apart in coming years” (page 88) but he recognises that the other types of platform are here to stay. He sees some benefits in this (e.g. better products for customers) but his main focus is on the concerns to which the emergence of platforms gives rise.
His biggest concern is the perceived monopolistic tendency of platform capitalism. He returns to this on a number of occasions and asks “Will competition survive in the digital era, or are we headed for a new monopoly capitalism?” (page 94). This is certainly a question that needs to be addressed but, Srnicek’s analysis points to various factors that suggest that there will continue to be significant competition among the platform providers. Nonetheless, his prognosis is bleak. “Let us be clear,” he says, “this is ….. the concentration of ownership” and, he continues, “Far from being mere owners of information, these companies are becoming owners of the infrastructures of society” (page 92). This is surely unduly apocalyptic.
Srnicek’s other major concern relates to labour. It is here that his left-wing philosophy is most apparent. He points to some real concerns (e.g. the mis-labelling of employees as independent contractors with a view to avoiding employment protections) and he dismisses the absurd idea that user-created data comprises the exploiting of free labour. However, he makes many statements that rely on assumptions that are at best dubious. For example, his suggestion that “In a healthy economy [people such as Uber drivers] would have no need to be micro-tasking, as they would have proper jobs” (page 82) seems to be based on the assumption that the job market of, perhaps, 50 to 70 years ago is the only acceptable model and smacks of left-wing nostalgia for the days of manufacturing-based factory capitalism. Likewise, his suggestion that companies such as Airbnb have “off-loaded costs from their balance sheet and shifted them to their workers” (page 83) suggests preference for the rigidities of integrated corporate monoliths over the more flexible models permitted by modern technology.
The book also suffers in some places from loose use of terminology. For example, Srnicek several times mentions (with apparent disapproval) the “cross-subsidisation” that he believes is inherent in some platform business models (e.g. Googles) that involve providing a free service that enables advertising space to be sold. This use of the term is eccentric. Google is no more involved in cross-subsidisation than are the owners of commercial television stations or free local newspapers that have historically survived by selling advertising space. It is hard to see what is wrong with the Google “cross-subsidisation” model from a competitive or any other point of view.
More seriously, Srnicek’s frequent attacks on “tax evasion” are mis-directed. Many people are rightly concerned about tax evasion but he confuses illegal evasion with legitimate tax minimisation. In particular, he seems unaware that, pursuant to express US law, US corporations may legally avoid the payment of US tax on foreign profits for so long as these are not repatriated. He may not like the relevant US legislation but there is logic behind it and, in any event, companies can hardly be criticised for making use of it. His statement that “The leaders of tax evasion have …… been tech companies” (page 59) followed by a list of well-known names, without any supporting evidence, is both disturbing and disappointing.
The final section of the book (relating to what the future may hold) is less disturbing but equally disappointing. One idea is piled on another. In less than two pages, there are suggestions of: co-operative platforms; anti-trust action; regulation of, or even the banning of, lean platforms; co-ordinated action on tax; the creation of “platforms owned and controlled by the people”, which must nonetheless be “independent of the surveillance State apparatus”; “post capitalist platforms” (whatever they might be); and the collectivisation of platforms (pages 127/8). None of these ideas is explored and one may doubt the realism of at least some of them and the practical benefits of others.
This is a pity because there are many issues arising from “platform capitalism” that should be explored by both policy makers and those involved in business. What are the implications for privacy and, indeed, personal freedom and how should we respond to these? What kind of protections for “workers” are practicable and appropriate in a digital world? Where do the responsibilities of the platform companies to employees, customers, suppliers and others begin and end and how can they best discharge them? What kinds of regulatory regimes (if any) are needed for this kind of company and how can they be imposed in a digital, cross-border world? Generally, what does responsible digital business look like?
Srnicek fails to offer any insights into these matters. None-the-less, his analysis of the platform companies is important because it should help others to do so. It should also help all of us to note the way in which the business world is moving and avoid suggesting outdated solutions to modern business problems.
“Platform Capitalism” was first published in 2017 by Polity Press (ISBN 1509504869, 9781509504862), 120pp.
Richard Godden is a Lawyer and has been a Partner with Linklaters for over 25 years during which time he has advised on a wide range of transactions and issues in various parts of the world.
Richard’s experience includes his time as Secretary at the UK Takeover Panel and a secondment to Linklaters’ Hong Kong office. He also served as Global Head of Client Sectors, responsible for Linklaters’ industry sector groups, and was a member of the Global Executive Committee.
John Wesley’s influence in the history of Christianity is indisputable. His movement for ‘scriptural holiness,’ his foundation of Methodism as both movement and denomination, his organisational prowess, his spiritual passion for the established church, all form part of his legacy. His Journals, letters and sermons are a goldmine of information and insight. Naturally this wealth of primary resources has also generated a history of interpretation. The fire in his parents’ Rectory at Epworth (‘a brand plucked from the flames’) came to form part of the providential history of Methodism, as indeed did his ‘conversion’ experience at a meeting of the Moravians in Aldersgate Street in London in May 1738. Wesley also was a political conservative, a supporter of the monarch, willing to pray against the French and resistant to the rebellion of the north American colonies.
So, a quest for Wesley’s economic and social ethic is an attractive possibility. Surely if there is an ‘evangelical economics,’ we will find Wesley an able exponent? The enormous strength of this book is that it gathers into one place Wesley’s writings and teachings on economic and social matters. The weakness lies in the interpretation in which we learn more about the author than we do the subject.
Professor Theodore Jennings is currently an affiliated Faculty member of Chicago Theological Seminary as Professor of Biblical and Constructive Theology. He has been a local pastor and also taught at the Methodist Seminary in Mexico City. He clearly stated aim is to re-interpret Wesley through the lens of liberation theology. So his starting point is a ‘demystification of wealth and power’ and a ‘preferential option for the poor’ (pp24-25). By ‘evangelical economics’ the author means ‘the criticism of wealth, the forms of solidarity with the poor, the notion of stewardship, and the vision of an economic practice based on the example of the Pentecostal community’ (p24). Intriguing though these themes are, they hardly form an adequate definition for ‘evangelical economics.’
The book is constructed around these key themes together with chapters on ‘The Theological Basis of Wesley’s Ethic,’ ‘Why did Wesley Fail?’ and ‘The Relevance of Wesley,’ together with an appendix on ‘Wesley on Politics.’ These chapters, forming the second half of the book, are essential to Jennings interpretative exercise – because he has, by his own admission, to deal with Wesley’s well-known conservatism, his swift abandonment of the Pentecostal ideal, Wesley’s own contra-writings to the liberation theology theme and the unwillingness of Methodism to embrace the apparent ideals of their founder.
Jennings powerfully brings out Wesley’s critique of wealth and excess. Wealth was a temptation and increasing riches increase the temptation and conformity to the world. Luxury leads to laziness and contempt for the poor. Jennings here draws upon Wesley’s Journal and his sermons, On Riches, The Danger of Riches, On the Danger of Increasing Riches. Wesley expounds the theme that all our riches and wealth are held on stewardship from God and with a purpose:
Do you not know that God entrusted you with that money (all above what buys necessaries for your families) to feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, to help the stranger, the widow, the fatherless; and, indeed, as far as it will go, to relieve the wants of all mankind (p102, quoting the sermon on ‘The Danger of Increasing Riches’).
Wesley’s most famous treatise on the matter was his well-known sermon on ‘The Use of Money,’ and the famous three-fold injunctions of ‘Earn all you can, save all you can, give all you can.’ Jennings does recognise the complexity of this sermon but we see also his own forced interpretation here by his description of this sermon as ‘the source of most of Wesley’s problems with the Methodists’ (p167). This is wholly inadequate by way of interpretation. Wesley refers to money as ‘an excellent gift of God’ and being of ‘unspeakable service to all civilised nations,’ whilst also arguing for ‘honest industry’ and for the avoidance of sinful trade or the undercutting of competitors. In reality there is little economics (evangelical or otherwise); the feel is very much that of a preacher.
There is also the vexed question of Wesley’s advocacy of the ‘community of goods,’ upon which Jennings places great store but about which two things are clear. First, that Wesley experimented intellectually (and hoped to do so practically) with the idea in the 1740s and, secondly, that he subsequently abandoned it either because he considered it to be unrealistic or because his thought had moved on, perhaps as he preached his sermon on “The Use of Money” (which he delivered on 23 occasions according to the sermon register, starting in 1744, and which was printed in 1760).
Despite his occasional radical thoughts Wesley stood in the mainstream tradition; he accepts the basic role of the market, offers strictures against excess and looks to the voluntary principle as a response to social need. However, for all that, we should not underestimate the power of his critique of wealth and money.
Ultimately, Jennings forces the material to his theme. He makes far too many pejorative interjections in his interpretation for the contemporary age. That is not to say that there is nothing powerful about gathering together from their disparate sources Wesley’s economic and social thought. However, he does so partially. By separating those writings of Wesley which operate in the opposite direction we are left with two halves of a theological tradition without the necessary interpretation of the complexity. Wesley was not an economist and his writings on economics – claimed indeed by both ‘free-marketers’ and ‘socialists’ (which merely illustrates the complexity) – simply cannot be garnered into some overarching economic strategy. As a preacher he certainly knew the challenges wealth brought; about business and market itself (the use of the word capitalism would be an anachronism) he was unquestionably equivocal.
“Good News to the Poor: John Wesley’s Evangelical Economics” was first published in 1990 by Abingdon Press (ISBN-10: 0687155282)
Dr Richard Turnbull is the Director of the Centre for Enterprise, Markets & Ethics (CEME). For more information about Richard please click here.
I first read this book shortly after it was published in 1994, at a time when I was starting to explore the interface between Christian ethics and economics. Re-reading it some twenty years later has been instructive, now that this field has been developed rather more and is taken seriously again by at least some of those involved in politics and public life.
The book is set out in four parts, preceded by a helpful introduction in which Tim Gorringe sets out his stall by explaining how he uses Karl Marx as a dialogue partner throughout. This gives a hint as to his own political leanings. Indeed, in his introduction he even locates Marx as standing within the tradition of prophecy (p. xi). This means that Gorringe works essentially with a structured view of society and of economics that draws on Marxist theories of power and domination, rather than something more dynamic or entrepreneurial, and this is the undergirding theme of Part One. However, the theme of ‘narrative’ and economic history is certainly also present here, as part of his general critique of a version of economics that is ‘at the mercy of abstract laws which only experts can fathom’ (p. 22).
Within Part One I enjoyed finding at least two sharp criticisms of Brian Griffiths, Chairman of CEME, and having heard Lord Griffiths’ more recent reflections my sense is that he might now yield a little ground to Gorringe when it comes to the place for Christianity within public policy (see p. 13), while holding fast against the Marxist view on equality and liberty (p. 54). In certain respects, the world that Gorringe describes has changed. I particularly noticed this in his discussion of a living wage, which has now been embraced across the political spectrum in the UK.
Part Two of the book has four chapters that address more focused subjects. The first of these, ‘Work, Leisure, and Human Fulfillment’, sets out a valuable survey of Christian thinking through history on this theme, with the conclusion that ‘true leisure is not utilitarian’ (p. 77), and that both work and leisure are about human realisation. As a stand-alone section this would make good reading for anyone wanting a critique of a self-contained neo-classical economic world-view. However, the other three chapters in Part Two resonate more strongly with Gorringe’s Marxist theme, as they tackle the subjects of alienation, solidarity, resistance, and social justice. Gorringe looks for a ‘rejection of the individualism which divides people and sets them against each other, affirmation that humanity consists in working together’ (p. 102). While this is indeed a hopeful broad vision to set forth, as I read these words I found myself wondering whether it takes seriously enough the way in which entrepreneurial energies operate within the economy.
Part Three is given the over-arching heading ‘The Common Treasury’, in which Gorringe explores the subjects of personal property, inequality, planning and ecology. His general approach is one that advocates a socialist ‘control’ of the economy, and at one point he states that ‘some kind of global planning is needed’ (p. 140). Part Four then consists of a single final chapter, entitled ‘Two Ways’, in which Gorringe mounts a strong attack on global capitalism. It was here that I was surprised but pleased to stumble across a reference to the economist Joseph Schumpeter. His work had been used as ammunition within a 1980s debate between the Roman Catholic bishops of the USA and some prominent Catholic lay people. Reading this section carefully, my impression was that Gorringe brackets Schumpeter with a more general neo-classical take on economic theory, and then summarily lambasts them both. However, I would argue that he has missed something here, and that a more careful look at the contrast between Schumpeterian economics and the neo-classical approach would have been fruitful. In fact, Schumpeter has been taken in a Marxist direction, notably by Paul Sweezy, and I wondered if Gorringe might have changed his line if he had been aware of this.
On almost the last page of the book I then found this sentence: ‘There is nothing intrinsically wrong with enterprise, initiative and ownership. What is wrong is when these are harnessed to profit, power, self-aggrandisement, and inequality.’ (p. 166) As a programmatic statement this felt promising to me, but I struggled to see how large parts of the book itself could be taken to support or develop it. Rather, for Gorringe any sense of enterprise or initiative seems essentially to be subsumed within a Marxist superstructure, and the need for human cooperation to be played out in a society marked by planning and control. In the end, therefore, I found this book to be a helpful foil against which I wanted to put forward different ideas connected to human enterprise. However, as a major contribution in the field of theological ethics and economic theory its importance cannot be doubted.
“Capital and the Kingdom: Theological Ethics and Economic Order” was published in 1994 by SPCK/Orbis Books (ISBN 10: 0-281-04773-1)
Edward Carter is Vicar of St Peter Mancroft Church in Norwich, having previously been the Canon Theologian at Chelmsford Cathedral, a parish priest in Oxfordshire, a Minor Canon at St George’s Windsor and a curate in Norwich. Prior to ordination he worked for small companies and ran his own business.
He chairs the Church Investors Group, an ecumenical body that represents over £10bn of church money, and which engages with a wide range of publicly listed companies on ethical issues. His research interests include the theology of enterprise and of competition, and his hobbies include board-games, volleyball and film-making. He is married to Sarah and they have two adult sons.
They often say ‘never to judge a book by its cover’, that initial external appearances can distort or even deceive the audience from the content that lies within. Well, the principle doesn’t apply here. Lynn Stout’s The Shareholder Value Myth attempts to achieve exactly what the title entails: a pure and straight forward critique of the belief that the ultimate purpose of business is to maximise shareholder value, which often dominates the field of business management.
Author Lynn Stout is Professor of Corporate & Business Law at the Cornell Law School where her main areas of research include corporate law, securities and derivatives regulation, economics, and organisational behaviour. Stout argues that the Shareholder Value ideology is ultimately just an ideology, not a legal requirement or a ‘practical necessity of modern-day business life’ (p3). In this sense, Shareholder Value thinking is a mistake for most companies because it indirectly forces corporate managers and executives to ‘myopically’ focus on short-term earnings at the expense of long-term stability and performance. It also ‘discourages investment and innovation, harms employees, customers, and communities; and causes companies to indulge in reckless, sociopathic, and socially irresponsible behaviours’ (p10).
The book is written clearly and concisely, predominantly using direct rhetoric and short sentences. In terms of structure, the book is broadly divided in two comprising parts: Part 1 is a direct attempt in ‘Debunking the Shareholder Value Myth’ while Part 2 is mostly an investigative endeavour into who the ‘shareholders’ are and what they actually value. Each part is made up of five shorter Chapters so let’s take a closer look into some of the main points and arguments made throughout the book.
The first half can be seen as a systematic critique of the means and (even disastrous) consequences of ‘shareholder value thinking’. Corporate scandals such as the 2010 BP Oil Spill and cases of serious fraud in large companies such as Enron, HealthSouth and Worldcom throughout the 2000s are all cited as consequences of shareholder value thinking. Professor Stout makes a compelling case that the ‘narrow’ focus on share price alone can result in ruthless management behaviour. The drive for extreme cost-cutting in the hope of increasing short term profit doesn’t just hurt the employees and the company, but the shareholders themselves.
The book provides a brief historical account of how shareholder value thinking came to dominate teaching in business schools as well as becoming the norm within the private sector itself. If in the 1800s most privately held companies were of single ownership (or a tight shared ownership), by the 1990s publicly held companies have tens of thousands of shareholders. Stout rightly argues that this replacement of the ‘single’ ownership model with an executive Board to represent the vast number of shareholders causes the Board (as well as the senior management) to assume that all the shareholders want is ‘to make as much money as possible, as quickly as possible’. It rather quickly trickles down to the lowest common moral denominator, ignoring the fact that shareholders are real human beings with different investment timeframes, different priorities and different attitudes toward the well-being of others. In this sense Lynn Stout rightly argues that ‘recognising these differences reveals that the idea of a single objectively measurable “shareholder value” [i.e. solely based of share price] is not only quixotic, but intellectually incoherent’ (p60).
The second half of the book turns its attention toward the shareholders themselves: who are they? And what do they want to get out of their investment? These questions in turn give rise to a clear dichotomy within a company’s pool of shareholders: ‘short-term speculators versus long-term investors’. Again, Lynn Stout rightly points out that ‘long-term shareholders fear corporate myopia. Short-term investors embrace it – and many powerful shareholders today are short-term’ (p65). The conflict of interest generated by short vs. long-term investors indirectly forces a company’s management to take the default position and assume that every shareholder is a ‘platonic investor’ – i.e. an investor that only owns shares in company ‘X’ and the share price increase is all that they are interested in. Lynn Stout argues that in reality however, this ‘platonic investor’ does not exist. The overwhelming majority of investors today own more than just shares in company ‘X’, they are invested in the marketplace as a whole and want to protect the value of their other investments also. In this sense, the short-term focus generated by shareholder value thinking can actually work against the interests of the shareholders themselves.
The book as a whole presents a compelling critique of shareholder value thinking. Yet it’s strength is also its greatest weakness: it is just that, a critique –nothing more and nothing less. What are the solutions? The final pages of the book only tentatively touch on a possible way forward in arguing that what is needed is a more ‘complex and subtle understanding of what shareholders really want from corporations’ (p115). This all sounds great and very necessary but how do companies get there? Even if executives come to acknowledge the variations in their shareholder’s desires – is this a guarantee that the company’s approach to corporate governance will change?
I have written on this topic in the past where I highlighted the importance of first establishing a concrete set of internal ethical values and practices. Only then does it become possible to accommodate the desires of a larger pool of shareholders and indeed, stakeholders.
A great deal remains to be written on this topic and The Shareholder Value Myth by Lynn Stout is an excellent addition to the growing body of literature that forces us to re-think the role and purpose of business in society.
A recommended read.
“The Shareholder Value Myth” was published in 2012 by Berrett-Koehler Publishers (ISBN 10: 1605098132). 134pp.
Andrei Rogobete is Associate Director of the Centre for Enterprise, Markets & Ethics. For more information about Andrei please click here.
The concept of “the common good” dates back at least to Aristotle and has been used by political theorists, moral philosophers and economists down the ages, including people as diverse as Thomas Aquinas, John Locke and Adam Smith. It is a basic concept in Catholic social teaching and is easily understandable by all. However, it is not familiar today in discourse about the purpose and role of business.
Wong and Rae want to change this. They suggest that, “it is an important time to reconsider what business, and our current or future participation in it, is all about” (page 28) and they undertake this reconsideration by first considering the purpose of those engaged in business. They suggest that, “The idea that business can be a calling is becoming more widely appreciated and accepted” but that “what exactly business is a calling to needs much more exploration” (page 33; the emphasis is theirs). They then launch into the required exploration. The first part of this leads to the conclusion that business is a calling “to transformational service for the common good” (page 76) and the implications of this are then worked through.
Business for the Common Good forms part of the InterVarsity Press “Christian Worldview Integration Series” and is, thus, written primarily for Christians. However, Prabhu Guptara observes in his endorsement that “Nothing in this book prevents it enriching the lives of Hindus such as myself – or, as far as I can see, those of Buddhists, Muslims, agnostics or atheists!” He is right. The book’s conclusions do not depend upon any theological propositions other than a general view of God and the World that will be shared, at least in its more important features, by millions of people of various faiths and, at least in relation to its view of the World, by many of no faith. Furthermore, although the Series Preface suggests that college students may be a primary target audience, the book is likely to assist a far wider audience, including those who have been in business for many years. Some readers will find its lack of interaction with other literature a downside but others will welcome the fact that it does not assume any prior reading and deals with issues from first principles.
After an over long Series Preface and their (shorter) Introduction, Wong and Rae helpfully examine the purpose of work, addressing the question whether work has merely an instrumental purpose or whether it also has an intrinsic purpose. Put simply, do we work merely to live or do we live to work? Many, perhaps most, people today would say that they work to live and for the poor this may seem obviously true but Wong and Rae seek to re-establish the idea that, as Martin Luther said, “The entire World is full of service to God, not only in the Churches but also the home, the kitchen, the cellar, the workshop and the field of the townsfolk and farmers” (page 60). As Wong and Rae put it, “Our work can serve as an altar” (i.e. an act of worship; page 46).
On this basis, they ask whose interests business should serve. It is their analysis of this that leads to what they describe as their “Christian vision for business” (page 76) and hence to their basic proposition that the calling to business is a calling to transformational service for the common good.
Having laid these foundations, they then turn to a series of specific issues: how involvement in business can result in negative effects on our character but how it can also transform us for good (which they rightly describe as a “rarely examined question”; page 37); what our attitude towards wealth, success and ambition should be; how we should respond to globalisation; ethics in the work place; business leadership and management; marketing; and stewardship and sustainability. Finally, they turn to what they describe as “several exciting (and very inspiring) ways that emerging practices and organisations are moving business towards becoming proactive and intentional partners in solving social problems” (page 38).
This is a huge amount to cover in a relatively short book and some parts of the book may leave the reader feeling a little short changed. However, this is not a superficial book or one that deals in generalities. It is closely argued and it is careful to explain both its starting points and its logic. It is also good to see issues such as the ethics of marketing addressed head on rather than in passing and, more generally, to have work place ethics placed in the broader context of the purpose of business rather than considered in isolation.
More seriously, many may question whether it is realistic to expect society as a whole to adopt Wong and Rae’s view of the purpose of business and whether it is even worth attempting to persuade society to do so. Wong and Rae are ethicists not business people and on occasions this is revealed in a lack of sophistication in the examples of business situations that they give. Furthermore, their view of the world leans towards the optimistic end of the theological spectrum (being in Niebuhr’s “Christ the Transformer of Culture” category and, in some respects, leaning towards his “Christ of Culture” category) and many will wish to question this optimism.
Wong and Rae recognise these issues and seek to address them. Not all of what they say is wholly convincing and they leave many unexamined issues (e.g. with regard to the role of competition). However, the points that they make should at least cause those who are more pessimistic, whether from experience or theological conviction, to analyse their views and perhaps conclude that, even if they are right to be pessimistic, Wong and Rae’s basic suggestions are worth pursuing.
Business for the Common Good provides an overview of its subject matter and, if it leaves readers with many questions requiring further exploration, that is for the good. Wong and Rae state that their intention is “to plant seeds, deepen conversations and enable changed outlooks, purposes, values and practices” (page 285). Their book should achieve this goal.
“Business for the Common Good” was published in 2011 by InterVarsity Press (ISBN 10: 0830828168). 288pp.
Richard Godden is a Lawyer and has been a Partner with Linklaters for over 25 years during which time he has advised on a wide range of transactions and issues in various parts of the world.
Richard’s experience includes his time as Secretary at the UK Takeover Panel and a secondment to Linklaters’ Hong Kong office. He also served as Global Head of Client Sectors, responsible for Linklaters’ industry sector groups, and was a member of the Global Executive Committee.
The Centre for Enterprise, Markets and Ethics (CEME) is pleased to announce the publication of Ethics in Global Business: Building Moral Capitalism by Andrei Rogobete.
The publication can be downloaded here. Alternatively, hardcopies can be ordered by contacting CEME’s offices via email at: office@theceme.org
CCLA Investment Management and the Centre for Enterprise, Markets and Ethics held a book launch, lecture, panel discussion and reception. Author Revd Canon Edward Carter spoke about his new book, published by The Centre for Enterprise, Markets and Ethics as part of its series on Enterprise and Faith.
A distinguished panel included Joanna Moriarty, Lord Glasman, Lord Griffiths and the Bishop of Dover, the Rt Revd Trevor Willmott.
The Centre for Enterprise, Markets and Ethics (CEME) is pleased to announce the publication of Business in Catholic Social Thought by Martin Schlag.
The publication can be downloaded here. Alternatively, paperback copies can be ordered by contacting CEME’s offices via email at: office@theceme.org or by telephone at, (+44) 0186 5513 453.
Colin Mayer is Professor of Management Studies at the Saïd Business School in Oxford. He believes that “the corporation is failing us” and that dramatic changes in the rights and obligations of those who control corporations are needed. Firm Commitment explains why and makes proposals for change.
Mayer uses the term “corporation” to refer to the kind of limited company that is commonly used by large businesses. He recognises the huge benefits that corporations have brought but he considers them to be seriously flawed. Indeed, he describes his book as “both a tribute to and a condemnation of this remarkable institution that has created more prosperity and misery than could have ever been imagined”. He perceives the main problem to be that corporations are seen as the creatures of their shareholders, rather than as independent entities, and this leads to the pursuit of shareholder value over the interests of stakeholders other than shareholders. In support of this, he cites numerous well-known corporate scandals.
The primary focus of his book is the UK and Mayer appears to believe the position here is worse than elsewhere. However, he is not starry eyed about any currently available option. Notably, he recognises that family and other tightly owned companies may have their own problems and scandals (citing Parmalat) and, in any event, family ownership “is not the resolution to the 21st–century corporation’s problems”. He is also dismissive of the attempts that have been made in recent years to correct problems through regulation (which, he asserts, “promotes immoral conduct”) or through enhanced corporate governance (which, he suggests, may promote increased shareholder control to the further detriment of other stakeholders). He suggests that what we need is “to find mechanisms by which companies can demonstrate a greater degree of responsibility themselves without relying on others to do it for them”. Specifically, he suggests that “we need to establish the means by which corporations can demonstrate more commitment to their stakeholder community”.
Salvation is in what he calls “trust firms”, which would be like existing corporations subject to three adaptations: entrenched within their constitutions would be corporate values (which might reflect the values of their founders, public policy or other things); there would be trustee boards to act as custodians of these values; and the corporation would have “time dependent shares” whereby the voting rights of shareholders would depend upon the extent of their commitment to hold their shares for the longer term (e.g. a share which its holder is committed to hold for a further ten years would have ten times the voting rights of a share which the holder is only committed to hold for one more year).
Mayer does not want any compulsion to be applied in relation to this. He argues that diversity in corporate forms should be permitted. He does, however, suggest that there be tax incentives to encourage the use of trust firms.
There is a lot to applaud in this book. In particular, there is depressingly little evidence that increased regulation or the focus on corporate governance in recent years has materially improved the corporate world and, against this background, Mayer’s stress on the importance of “commitment” as opposed to “control” deserves serious consideration. It links with ideas derived from the work on “relational thinking” that has been undertaken in recent years by, amongst others, the Relationships Foundation and Tomorrow’s Company. Furthermore, the concept of a “trust firm” is an interesting one that could contribute to the development of a broader view of corporate purpose and responsibility.
Unfortunately, however, this is a flawed book. Perhaps Mayer has tried to cram too much into 250 pages. Whatever the reason, almost every page contains contentious statements or statements that require significant qualification. Although there are plenty of footnotes referring to past research, there are also many ex cathedra statements as well as many assertions and assumptions with which specialists will take issue. For example, some of the statements of law are, at best, partial and Mayer seems unaware that much of what he proposes can already be achieved through existing law (as, for example, the entrenchment of editorial independence within the constitution of The Economist Newspaper Ltd illustrates). He also accepts dubious interpretations of past events. In particular, his long description of the Cadbury takeover accepts the views of its former chairman, Sir Roger Carr, without examination. This is a pity because others involved in that takeover (including former Cadbury directors) have different views and consideration of these might have led to Mayer modifying some of his suggestions.
More seriously, Mayer’s analysis of the objective of corporations is unhelpful. He states that “shareholder value is an outcome not an objective” and even quotes former GE CEO Jack Welsh in support of his views. However, his argument only addresses the use of short term share prices as the test of shareholder value and his suggested alternative as a corporate objective is demonstrably inadequate. He asserts that a corporation’s “first and foremost objective is not to its shareholders, or to its stakeholders. It is to make, develop, and deliver things and to service people, communities, and nations”. It is unclear from where he derives this overarching normative assertion and, in any event, it is no more useful than saying that the objective of corporations is “to do things”! It does not help a corporation’s management to decide whether they should remain in heavy engineering or move to IT or whether to be a volume manufacturer or a niche player.
Finally, Mayer’s evident confidence that the trust firm does not suffer from serious flaws and is the solution to the myriad of issues that he has identified is not backed-up by careful analysis. He appears to recognise this since he says that his ideas need to be “subject to careful scrutiny”. They certainly do and, whilst they are undoubtedly worth such scrutiny, it may be seriously doubted whether they are the “cure all” that Mayer appears to believe.
That said, provided that the book is read critically, it is well worth reading.
“Firm Commitment” by Colin Mayer was first published in 2012 by Oxford University Press (ISBN-10: 0199669937).
Richard Godden is a Lawyer and has been a Partner with Linklaters for over 25 years during which time he has advised on a wide range of transactions and issues in various parts of the world.
Richard’s experience includes his time as Secretary at the UK Takeover Panel and a secondment to Linklaters’ Hong Kong office. He also served as Global Head of Client Sectors, responsible for Linklaters’ industry sector groups, and was a member of the Global Executive Committee.
This is a talk given by Lord Griffiths of Fforestfach at an event organised jointly by the Centre for Character and Values at the Legatum Institute and Clifford Chance LLP. and Chaired by Christina Odone, Chair of the Centre. (May 9th 2016).
I am a great admirer of Alasdair MacIntyre. He is one of the world’s greatest living philosophers, invariably provocative and controversial but never without interest or depth of thought. A few years ago he gave a lecture with the arresting title “The Irrelevance of Business Ethics”. He set out to argue that the financial crisis of 2008 was not the result of a lapse in ethics by bankers but that the very nature of dealing in financial markets was to offload risk on to a counterparty or client with no ethical consideration whatever, “the better the trader the more morally despicable”. The result is that trying to teach ethics to traders was like reading Aristotle to a dog.
From the evidence of opinion polls the very expression ‘business ethics’ in an oxymoron. The fact that since the financial crisis banks have been fined over $300 billion, Volkswagen has admitted cheating on emission tests on potentially 11 million cars, Mitsubishi has acknowledged that it intentionally mislead regulators, shareholders of blue chip companies have revolted over executive pay and the House of Commons Select Committee has investigated the sale of BHS for £1 which was subsequently put into administration with a huge pensions deficit the following year, all suggest that ‘business ethics’ is for the general public a contradiction in terms.
Ethical behaviour by business is important for a number of reasons.
One is that the public expect business to be ethical. They expect business to be conducted in an honest, fair and transparent manner, which serves the greater good of society and not just the interests of management and shareholders. They expect the senior managers of business firms and the entrepreneurs who set up private companies to have a moral compass which respects the dignity of those who work in the organisation and those they serve as customers. They expect that businesses will have standards which do not seek to mislead or misinform customers regarding the true price and the quality of the products and services which they provide.
The fact that the public hold such views is important because through their elected representatives who pass legislation in parliaments it is the public ultimately who grant business a license to operate. Without such a license for example, limited liability companies would not exist. That license can be changed at the will of Parliament. What has become increasingly clear is that the public will not put up with unethical business. Without ethical business regulation will increase. Just look at what’s happened in banking following the financial crisis. Regulation is at best a blunt instrument in that it cannot easily be tailored to meet the needs of individual companies. Not only that but regulation is a form of taxation and like most taxes it has a deadweight cost to society.
A second reason why ethics in business matters is that it underpins the legitimacy and attractiveness of a market economy. From the latter half of the eighteenth century and Adam Smith’s great work on the causes of the growth in the wealth of nations, a market economy which fosters enterprise and freedom and allows markets to work and is by far the best driver of prosperity that we know not only that but a market economy entails a degree of economic freedom which is a key element of political freedom. Business without ethics and values therefore undermines the appeal of a market economy and a free society.
A third reason why ethics in business matters is a personal observation. Working in a company with ethical business principles and a culture built around strong values is far more fulfilling than working in a company which turns a blind eye to ethical standards and in which the culture is based principally on success and money. I have sat on the boards of fifteen companies in the private sector since working for the first 25 years of my career in the public sector. These companies were varied. Some were main boards with shares traded on the NYSE, NASDAQ or LSE; others were wholly owned subsidiary boards; some were large, others medium, some small in terms of size; two were joint ventures. The products and services covered were extensive: banking, broking, rail freight, care homes, music, cable communications, television, cleaning, killing bugs.
For me and I suspect for most of those who worked for the companies the most distinguishing factor in terms of a company being ‘a great place to work’ was the respect shown to fellow employees, the pride the firm took in its products and services, the sense of community which existed in the organisation, management’s commitment to help people develop to their full potential and the fact that it served a greater purpose than just focussing on maximising the bottom line. It is because of these qualities that such a company is trusted by its customers and the community in which it operates. It is also the reason it is able to build up a culture of trust within the organisation so that management can be trusted to make the right decisions.
If businesses are to act ethically there are three questions business leaders must ask themselves.
First, Who Are We? Put differently, What do We Stand for? What is our Purpose?
This I believe is the most fundamental and difficult question for any business leader to ask. To explore the purpose of a business is to go beyond profit. Without profit – which is the financial return to those who provide equity capital – a business will not survive. However asking about purpose raises broader issues than the bottom line. Does the company take pride in the product or service it provides? Is being part of the firm a source of human flourishing? How does the company contribute to the common good by what it does?
The reason it is difficult to ask these questions is that they in turn ask each of us to turn inward and ask ourselves a far more searching set of questions, Who am I? What am I doing with my life? What is the purpose of my existence? Most of us most of the time want to park such questions and get on with the day to day challenges of running the business. Far better and more productive to log on and check what the markets have been doing overnight. Then respond to e-mails. After that a look at today’s calendar with slots filled in from early morning to late at night.
I served for 21 years on the Board of a US company, Herman Miller which designed and manufactured office furniture. It was in the twentieth century a world leader in its field both in terms of design (it attracted great designers such as Eames, Ngouchi, Nelson, Gehry, Stumpf and environmental stewardship well before that became an important item on corporate agendas. The Chairman who invited me to join the board was Max de Pree. It was only many years later that I came across an essay written by Nicholas Wolterstorff, a distinguished Yale professor of philosophy, that I became aware of the importance of the purpose of a business. This is what he said;
“About ten years ago now I served – quite amazingly – as a philosophical consultant to the Herman Miller Furniture Company in New Zeeland, Michigan. Max de Pree, the executive officer of the company, had invited an architect, a physician, a journalist, a furniture designer, a theologian, and me to an all-day session with him and about five of the top officers in his company. At the beginning of the day he posed ten questions that he wanted us to discuss, in whatever order we wished. He asked us not to concern ourselves with trying to say things that we thought would be useful to the company; he wanted the discussion to take whatever shape it wanted to take. I remember three of the questions. “What is the purpose of business?” he asked. Some of his younger executives were saying that the purpose of business was to make money. He himself didn’t believe that; but he wanted to talk about it. Second, he wondered whether there was “a moral imperative”, as he called it, for companies to produce products of good design. And third, he wanted to discuss whether it was possible to preserve what he called “intimacy” in a large company.
It became clear, in the course of the discussion what de Pree himself regarded as the purpose of business. The purpose, as he saw it, was twofold: to produce products that serve a genuine need and are aesthetically good, and to provide meaningful work in pleasant surroundings for those employed in the company. He added that these purposes had for a long time shaped his operation of the company.
Now it seems to me that these two purposes are, or can be, an expression of charity – that is, both consist to promote the welfare of the other. As a matter of fact, it became clear in the course of the discussion that it was de Pree’s religious commitment – specifically, his Christian commitment – that had led him to embrace these goals. He saw his operation of the company as an exercise of charity – though he didn’t use the word. His own case, at least as he presented it, was a case of “transcendental faith” shaping economic activity.
Was he prevaricating? Or deluded?”
Second, is the question What are our values? Have they been set out explicitly? Are they so general as to be vacuous? Who in the firm owns the values?
It is easy to write down a set of values for a business. Indeed nearly all large companies have similar sets of values: respect for the individual, honesty and integrity, social responsibility to the community, environmental stewardship and so on. Far more difficult is to assess their effectiveness. How do the values shape the way I work and the decisions I make? How do I behave differently because these values are set down and I am a member of that firm? What responsibilities do I now have because of these values? Do I treat colleagues differently? Do I treat clients differently?
I have found that the key to effective values in business is that they must be lived by the leadership of the company. The leadership must walk the talk. Without that the values are empty and the leaders guilty of hypocrisy. Preaching one thing but practising another. The leaders of a business cannot rely on regulation. Leadership cannot outsource the values of a business to regulators.
One test is what the leaders of a business think their values really are? Would that be shared by the average employee? Would it also be the perspective of clients and suppliers?
I was reminded of this recently in an article which appeared in Forbes magazine by Professor James Heskett, professor emeritus at Harvard Business School on the subject of servant leadership which is a more used term in the US than in Europe. The concept of servant leadership places great emphasis on the role of a business leader serving employees. Heskett recalls an incident at a ServiceMaster board meeting at which I was present and remember distinctly when the Chairman and CEO, William Pollard spilled a cup of coffee prior to the board meeting. “Instead of summoning someone to clean it up, he asked a colleague to get him a cleaning compound and a cloth, things easily found in a company that provided cleaning services. Whereupon he proceeded to get down on his hands and knees to clean the spill up himself. The remarkable thing was that board member and employees alike hardly noticed as he did it. It was as if it was expected in a company with self-proclaimed servant leadership”. (Forbes 5/01/2013. “Why Isn’t Servant Leadership More Prevalent?”)
The third question is ‘What is going on in our business?
As a non-executive director of a company whose board meets four or six times a year, one of the most frustrating challenges is obtaining sufficient information to really find out what is happening in the business. I believe it is very important that non-executives meet not only senior but middle management and even junior staff. Only once have I ever found senior management reluctant to allow non-execs talking directly to management. Frequently the binding constraint is the time non-exec’s are able to devote to meeting employees. However it is only then that they find out what is really happening in the business.
In small companies finding out what is really going on in the business is not really a problem. In large multi-nationals however the issue is a major challenge. In the money laundering activities carried on by certain banks the sheer size, organisational structure and large number of countries in which the bank operated have proved a major obstacle to effective control.
A number of steps are necessary in making values effective in business.
First, it is important to set out explicitly the purpose of the business. For this a one-time mission statement is typically far too general and vague and begs the question of what the purpose of a business really is when spelt out in practical terms.
Second, it is important to set out in some detail the ethics, values and business principles of the firm. The temptation is to frame these in general terms. Management must accept that the actions of today will be judged by the standards of tomorrow, which means being ahead of the curve.
Third, on the basis of its purpose and values, it must build a culture with implications for all employees, affecting every aspect of the business; reporting, firing, promotion, human resources, selling, buying, accounting, auditing and so on.
Fourth, senior leadership must show through ‘the tone from the top’ that they live the values and they are committed to ensuring that the same values permeate the middle and lower echelons, the ‘permafrost’ of the firm.
Fifth, the leadership must be able to constantly appraise the effectiveness which its values, code of ethics, business principles have on conduct. They must trust but verify. This will include keeping a close eye on disciplinary matters and terminations, with regular surveys of staff and clients. Such information is important in compensation discussions and promotion recommendations.
Sixth, in all of this non-executive directors have a key role to play in that on behalf of the shareholders and stakeholders they are the guardians of the purpose, values and ethics of the company.
The challenge of implementing values in a business can be made easier or more difficult by certain factors, namely size, ownership and the extent of competition in the markets in which the firm operates.
The size of a business matters. Implementing values in a small firm is easier than in a large firm. In a small firm it is much easier for senior management to know what is going on. A large firm needs systems of control and trust in those responsible for them. It may also be easier in a firm delivering a single product or service rather than in a conglomerate in which there are different kinds of businesses with different business cultures, something which becomes even more challenging when the company has operations in different countries.
Different forms of ownership will face different challenges. A private firm and especially a family business may find it easier to develop an effective culture than a publically traded company. A partnership may have built in checks and balances to maintain high standards. That any concept of intimacy has disappeared.
The competitiveness of the markets in which a firm operates is a further factor to be taken into account. Competition is beneficial. It drives down costs and will lead to lower prices for consumers. It allows new firms to enter the business. It encourages innovation. However, in a highly competitive market when margins are under pressure, hiring staff is difficult and expensive; if competitors begin to use questionable methods (“tolerated practice”) ethical standards will be under pressure. This raises an important issue for public policy. What is the optimal degree of competition? Reducing barriers to entry and opening markets to foreign companies is beneficial but is there a point at which competition becomes excessive and undermines ethical behaviour? Will the market itself be self-correcting? Should it be left to regulation? And if it will, at what social cost?
I believe that the subject of maintaining ethical standards in business, of creating business cultures in firms which make them “great places to work” and of punishing wrongdoers for illegal activity is fundamental to a market economy and a free society. I am grateful for this opportunity to raise some issues associated with it this evening and look forward to our discussion.
Lord Griffiths is the Chairman of CEME. For more information please click here.
This was a speech given at a reception for the New City Initiative hosted by the Lord Mayor of London, the Rt Honourable Lord Mountevans – July 7th 2016, Mansion House. To request a full copy of the Report please contact office@theceme.org
May I, first of all, add my own thanks to the Lord Mayor, to Jamie Carter and to the NCI?
There may be, in the minds of many of our fellow citizens, something rather incongruous about asset managers even beginning to think about morality. That in itself illustrates that the importance of returning to our basic purposes, role, intent and vision, could not be greater.
Why is it that efficiency of asset allocation, pooling risk, providing liquidity and so on can be seen as contributing to moral purpose? It is because at the heart of the asset management task lies the collective management of wealth and economic growth that not only provides for individual well-being, but is also an essential component for the provision of public services in any free society. Unless we have the former, we cannot have the latter. So that is our first and most basic moral purpose, the creation of wealth, individual and corporate, and we should articulate it rather more than we do.
Second, the very nature of the firms gathered here gives us some clues about moral purpose at the micro level. Intelligent people, thinking about investment, markets and companies; the alignment of interests through co-investment; a culture that focuses on the offering to the client; an alternative to the index-driven retail industry; stewards of value – all of these are moral benefits of NCI member firms.
Are there challenges? Of course. We need to be transparent on fees and the relationship of remuneration and performance; fee structures have sometimes rewarded mediocrity. We should recognise that many of our clients will have non-financial objectives as well as financial. We should encourage a culture that places long-term thinking at the heart of the investment objective.
Finally, regulation and reputation. Regulation is necessary, but government and regulators alike are mistaken if they think that regulation enforces moral behaviour. NCI members are uniquely placed to shape the culture, the structure and indeed the long-term growth that alone can deliver performance and restore reputation. We should indeed articulate it more than we do, at both micro and macro levels.
Well, I encourage you to read the booklet, and if I can be of assistance to you, your partners or clients, to help you achieve these goals, then please do not hesitate to contact me.
Dr Richard Turnbull is the Director of the Centre for Enterprise, Markets & Ethics (CEME). For more information about Richard please click here.
