CITY AND SUBURBAN
British Rail acts the fierce bad rabbit in Mr McGregor's garden
CHRISTOPHER FILDES
Anasty surprise awaits John McGre- gor, the transport minister, on his return from (you guessed it) Tuscany. Before he left for his fact-finding holiday at Poggi- bonsi Junction, he called at Cricklewood to bless Charterail and open its new depot. In his absence, British Rail has been doing its best to shut down the depot and Charterail too. This has politics written all over it. Charterail is a joint venture to exploit new systems, which should make it economic to carry freight by rail. GKN, the engineering group, and Electra, the venture capital spe- cialists, have financed it, with BR in for a minority stake. Charterail built up business with Petfoods, including a cross-channel service, and went on to recruit such blue- chip customers as Nestle, Coca Cola, Guin- ness and Safeway. The customers are happy, but what has thrown Charterail is the price BR asks for hauling its trains. Having signed up at £9 a mile, BR wants to raise that by 25 per cent. In the world out- side, there is a recession on, and road haulage prices are 20 per cent off the top, but not in BR. Charterail would like to buy new engines of its own, and to bypass the drivers' old Spanish customs. BR does not want to know. It has lost money on rail freight for 25 years, so why should other people make some? It will have to open up to joint ventures and franchises when Mr McGregor gets his bill through Parliament, but it seems in no hurry to help them. No wonder Richard Branson is derailed, and Sir Alastair Morton (who wants freight trains for Eurotunnel) less than chuffed. Backed by offers of support from big British and American companies, Char- terail is fighting its corner. It now needs the support of a minister who believes in his policies — and he cannot be best pleased to find that, when his back is turned, BR is acting the fierce bad rabbit in Mr McGre- gor's garden.
Bath chaps
THE finance ministers of Europe meet this weekend at the Royal Crescent Hotel, Bath. They will find that the position is splendid, the food is praiseworthy, and the bill will make them jump. Norman Lamont will then explain that this is all part of his fixed exchange rate policy. Then they will arrange smirks on their faces, stroll out into the crescent to be photographed, and pledge themselves to the eternal and immutable support of their own and each others' currencies, until next time. This jaunt to Bath is part of Britain's long-await- ed European presidency, which thus far has had as much impact as an autumn leaf on a wet pavement. Perhaps we are working up strength, or perhaps we are waiting for 20 September and the French vote, which may put leadership at a premium and new think- ing in demand. Or perhaps we are still try- ing to fudge our way round the next corner and hoping that nothing else will go wrong. At tea-time on Tuesday my two-dollar mar- tini flashed up: = $1.9995-2.0005 and still rising. If Mr Lamont wants to make a success of his party weekend, he must change the venue to the Ritz Carlton, Boston, or the Pierre in New York and order doubles all round.
Going to the Dogs
A TRIUMPH for the Paymaster General's office: it is in Crawley, and it is going to stay there. This follows what the Civil Ser- vice calls a relocation study. For the benefit of any civil servant who has not yet found this out the hard way, I can reveal the relo- cationists' first question. It is: why not Canary Wharf? Any government depart- ment which shows signs of moving house (or even, like the Paymaster General's staff, changing status) will find itself on the receiving end of a sharp official nudge, pointing it towards the vacant palaces of the Isle of Dogs. So a strange relationship moves into a new phase. The Docklands development first endeared itself to Mar- garet Thatcher because it showed what could happen when governments stood back and didn't interfere. Thus it became a showpiece of policy, and therefore specially favoured. Now it has become an object of policy, and government departments find themselves wheeled out in its support which shows what can happen when gov- ernments step in and interfere. Why. though. should this be a one-property poli- cy? Are there no other deserving develop- ers with vacant palaces? Civil servants who like London's docks ought to love Salford Quays. lapped by the viscous contents of the Manchester Ship Canal. Merry Hill. built on what was the biggest chemical dump in the Midlands? Laganside. for front-line commitment to Belfast? Minis- ters and mandarins should reflect that play- ing favourites is a tricky game. and easier to start than to stop.
Midland is committed.. .
GOOD news from the High Street banks is a rarity, but I have a dramatic report from the Midland. My man under the tennis- court-sized boardroom table tells me that Brian Pearse, the chief executive, has abol- ished committees. All of them. The Mid- land. having formalised or fossilised in the 1920s, had committees for everything. Mr Pearse, who came in from Barclays, found this excessive and has gone to the opposite extreme. It is an example that deserves to be followed in corporate bureaucracies throughout the land. Nothing would do more for productivity. Veteran committee- sitters will he shocked at having to make up their own minds and take the conse- quences. Managers will enjoy it. My man tells me that this coup derives from a for- mative experience when Mr Pearse came to the Midland. He found himself on a high- powered committee with 14 members. Of these, only two — the resourceful veteran Brian Goldthorpe, and Mr Pearse himself — were accustomed to lending money.
. . . to NABC
FOR myself, I am glad to see the Midland build on my pioneer work at NABC. At one time, I was involved with a City organisa- tion which used to come out in committees like spots. Every stimulus brought on a new committee, and every hour of the day could be spent in meetings, or in drafting the minutes of the last one or in preparing reports for the next one. In response to this, I was active in founding NABC, with no organisational structure but a common attitude of mind: Not Another Bloody Committee.
Previous page
