A fool and his money

Versts of verbiage

Bernard Hollowood

One of the curiosities of publishing is the spate of books on investment that accompanies every boom in the stock market. The reading public is expected to believe that dozens of financial wizards with the golden touch actually prefer writing tedious tomes on How to Mahe Your First Million, Secrets of the Star Portfolio and Big Deal on 'Change to making a fortune the easy way by following their own advice.

Obviously the publishers believe that such books will sell like hot cakes or hot tips, though the mounds of remaindered first editions on the railway bookstalls suggest that such optimism is unfounded. During a market recession, when, of course, the investor and speculator are in real need of expert guidance, the authors of the financial manuals, directories and glossaries become strangely silent. A Sixth sense seems to tell them that the mugs have gone to ground.

I suspect, however, that the writers keep going during periods of falling values by changing hats and pseudonyms and plying the publishers with books on management. Yes, when easy money is inaccessible men's thoughts turn to their jobs, their salaries and prospects for promotion, and they are then supposed to be suckers for volumes discussing the psychology of leadership.

One popular method of presenting this indigestible pabulum is to seek out some pundit from the past and bring his pearls of wisdom up to date. America has already produced its neo-classical, twentieth century 'Adam Smith,' and now we are offered a new Confucius and a new Machiavelli. Confucius and Co-Thoughts of a Chairman (Business Books £3.50) is the copyright of 'Confucius' and takes the form of a series of potted aphorisms and memoranda on such topics as "on being a Great Chairman," "on Office Politics," "on the Fundamentals of Good Management," "on Industrial Relations," "on Expenses" and "on Women." The aphorisms might conceivably be of some help to a thoroughly boring speaker at a convention of brush salesmen, but they are ridiculously trite and pompous. We are told that a great chairman is no robot, seeks to be, slow of speech and quick of action,' complains about his own inabilities, not about people's ignorance of himself, does not show a blind persistence in his practice of uprightness, does not accept a man for his words alone ... Oh, dear, oh, dear.

I doubt whether Tony Benn would wholly approve of 'Confucius' on industrial relations:

If one is sedate in the presence of workpeople, they will be respectful. If one is considerate and kind, they will be loyal. If one employs the competent as managers and instructs the less able, they will work hard. If those at the top are fond of the rules, the workpeople are easy to direct. . . The workpeople can be made to follow a System, but they cannot be made to understand it (So much for the Industry Bill!) . . . No one calls the trade union convenor upright!

Did you ever!

Surely the writer can say something worthwhile about Women?

The wife of a Chief Executive is called 'Lady' by her husband. She calls herself 'Child.' The workpeople call her 'The Chief Executive's Ma'am.' When she is mentioned to the managers of another company, she is called 'The Madam.' When workpeople of another company mention her, they too say 'The Chief Executive's Ma'am.'

I'm not making this up. Honestly. The stuff is there in black and white, set 11 on 12 pt Baskerville and prepared for press by the Ivory Head Press, 30 Craven Street, London WC2. And I'm on the level.

Richard H. Buskirk's Modern Management & Machiavelli (Business Books £4.25) isn't quite as atrocious. There is an outline drawing of Machiavelli on the Cover and he is in converse with a photograph of a modern manager with horn-rimmed specs, a wide tie and a fancy hanky pyramiding from his breast pocket. No expense has been spared to give the book a with-it look, for the words Modern Management are printed in computer lettering. That's a new one, eh? The chief reason for the improvement on "Confucius" is that this book contains large chunks of Machavelli's The Prince and The Discourses and these inevitably cut down the amount of space available to Mr Buskirk.

The book kicks off with an attack on nepotism. Roy was a highly successful salesman with a large food products organisation and was soon offered the job of general manager of a "small but fast-stepping food speciality processor." He was heading for promotion, too: there were hints that if all went well he could expect to be head man with a piece of the action. Unfortunately, the boss had a son, and when the kid took over "daily operations became confused as he compounded his mistakes with errors." Or it could have been compounded his errors with mistakes: I forget which. Anyway, one day he took an order over the phone and then forgot to write it up, and when he remembered it, guess what? He sent the wrong goods to the wrong address, the dope. He would tell an underling to do something and then bawl him out for doing it. He let work pile up on his desk and refused to answer his mail. "Sales dropped and cash became a problem as the lad invested in such necessary business equipment as a corporate yacht." A corporate yacht isn't necessary business equipment. The author is being snide.

Meanwhile Roy was doing his job and hoping, but the boss wouldn't dethrone his heir. "He'll shape up,' he said. "Give him time." And of course the business failed, and who got the blame? Why, poor old Roy. "Admittedly," confesses the author, "it's an old story, but wishful thinking seems to blind some people to the fact that family businesses are different than (sic) publicly owned ones."

Let's take a lucky dip:

Long-term success depends upon altering one's behaviour — one's strategies and tactics — to conform to the times. Big free-wheeling gamblers do well in boom times but go down in flames in

hard times; the conservative, close-tthe-vest businessman is jeered until

recessions prove him competent. Rare is the man who can change with the times, so ingrained are his habits. What works for him once must work again — or so it seems to the unperceptive administrator.

Which, I suggest, is where we came in. The writer who continues to churn out books of financial advice in a slump is a fool. If he had any sense he'd switch his subject to management. But he'd have to make rather a better job of his new assignment than Messrs "Confucius" or Buskirk. I'm sorry, but I can remember encountering two books containing so much trash, so manY versts of verbiage. You'll gather that I don't recommend them.