A fool and his money

Too old at sixty?

Bernard Hollowood

Lord Ryder says that our boards of directors are too aged, that British industry needs an injection of youth. The elderly, he says, "are living in cloud cuckoo land" and haven't the zeal or know-how to modernise effectively and compete in the world's markets.

I seem to have heard all this before. It's the automatic response to falling sales figures or dwindling dividends. Get rid of dead wood, is the cry, and give gilded youth the chance to prove itself.

Well, I'm not so sure that youth is what industry needs, and I'm not alone in thinking thus. Recently, I made it my business to canvass the view of an employee of the Snacker and Diplocket Small Things Co. (1928) Ltd, a company in which I have a small vested interest, and what follows is the result of my inquiry.

It was easy enough to contact Madge Bletchley, secretary to Arnold Snacker, because she likes nothing better than a free lunch at the Savoy and a good gossip. She's been with Snacker's for nine years and in her time has been the confidant of all the company's top brass..

"Oh, yes," she said, with a mouth full of smoked salmon, "there's a terrific power struggle going on. Mr Arnold and Mr Tom [Diplocket] are both in their sixties and the younger executives consider them too old for the job. Bob Henfield, for example, makes no secret of his belief that Mr Arnold is senile and ought to make room as chairman for Bob Henfield.

"Senile!" she went on. "I like that. Why, Mr Arnold, for all his years, is tremendously virile. It's a pleasure to work overtime with him."

"And Mr Henfield?" I said.

"An amateur. No finesse. Not enough experience. He's the type of man who registers as Mr and Mrs Smith when he takes his secretary to Bonn or Brussels. Crude, if you see what I mean."

"But vigorous?"

"Oh, yes, vigorous. He marches round the works twice a day to keep an eye on things. But he doesn't impress tilt. employees: they can see him coming. He's inexperienced. Occasionally, I've operated as his secretary and he's nothing like as friendly as Mr Arnold. He'll come into my room and say 'There are twenty-three letters on tape in my office. I'd like them posted before 3 pm.' And I have to collect the tape, put on the earphones and type his recorded mumbo-jumbo. It's soulless.

"He's tried to get the board to approve a motion making all directors redundant at fifty-five but his only supporter is Chris Diplocket who's just left Oxford and wants to be our top man in Brussels.

"Mr Henfield doesn't understand overseas buyers. The Japs all want to play golf and go on the town, but Henfield doesn't play the game and his idea of a night out is a Bruckner concert at the Wigmore Hall. So invariably the entertaining is left to Mr Arnold who has a handicap of 9 and knows whee it's at. You know, the skin flicks and good-time girls.

"Another thing. Mr Henfield wants to change the name of the company. Says it's ridiculous to stick to Small Things Co. (1928) Ltd now that we build oil rigs and bulldozers. Fortunately, Mr Arnold won't hear of it and says small is beautiful.

"Snacker's has always been like a family, an extended family, with everyone feeling they have a share in the business. They don't, of course. There's no worker participation or share incentive scheme at Snacker's, but everybody turns out to cheer the works football and cricket teams. Everybody, that is, except Mr Henfield and Chris Diplocket. Henfield wants to issue free shares to the workers, one El ordinary share for every year of service, but the union feels that it does better out of plant bargaining. Pay has gone up by 225 per cent since 1972.

"The workers, particularly the foundry, will never forgive Henfield for refusing to install floodlighting on the soccer pitch. His argument was that the night shift would be playing football all night if the pitch was lit up. But in my view the men would have been healthier and fitter with a bit of night football thrown in than carrying on as they do now. I mean, the night shift is a bit of a joke with Marsden's Electronics, employing hundreds of girls, just down the road. Get me?"

I said that I got her.

"On the other hand the men will never forget Mr Arnold's 53 not out against AIK Computers. We were a man short and Mr Arnold cancelled a date with me in order to fill the gap. He batted at number eight and won the match! And he was fiftynine years old at the time. For a week after that innings, output per man-hour was nearly doubled."

"So you're strongly in favour of the old guard?" I said.

"Absolutely," she said. ''Snacker's need people at the top who can hold their liquor. If Bob Henfield takes a client out to lunch he's like a bear with a sore head all afternoon. Ordering people around, demanding efficiency and generally upsetting people. Only last week he got me to produce four alkas in less than an hour and spent the afternoon between the toilet and the phone. He kept ringing departmental heads to make sure they were still on the job!

"Mr Arnold now, he's different. After a lunch at the Connaught he. takes a nap on his office sofa and orders the car to take him to Victoria at four o'clock sharp. No fuss. He shows no ill-effects, lets us get on with it. Civilised."

I thanked her for her information and said I hoped she wouldn't get into trouble for being so late back at the office.

"Not to worry," she said. "I happen to know that Henfield's got a date at the Ministry of Trade, and Wednesday always means Mr Arnold's with the masseuse all afternoon."