A fool and his money

Subsidies for equities

Bernard Hollowood

I am convinced that the British press is wasting millions of pounds annually by printing unwanted news. Nearly all our daily papers devote at least a page to items which have always been ignored by the vast majority of readers and which are now more than the 'interested' minority can stomach. I refer, of course, to the Stock Market closing prices.

For more then a year now this page has tormented investors especially those who, like me, have decided that, come what may, they will ride out the slump and hang on to their bits and pieces of equity. There was a time — it seems aeons ago — when the closing prices were among my newspaper's chief attractions. Philistine that I am, I always turned first to the sports pages where I made a meal of the cricket scores or football results (though skipping any reference to horses or dogs), then to the closing prices, and finally to the leader page, readers' letters, featured articles and reviews. The front page, parliamentary report and crossword I left to accompany my pre-lunch coffee.

I had become an expert in assessing the initial impact of the stock market list: one glance told me whether plus signs or minus signs were in the ascendant and whether closer scrutiny of the companies in which I had shares would result in euphoria or gloom. Let me quickly add, however, that in those seemingly far-off days my fortune (well, it was a fortune to me, though it wouldn't have paid Jim Slater's telephone bill for a week) never varied in total by more than a few pounds. One day I would be £15 better off and the next would see my portfolio a few pounds lighter. But it was certainly a more exciting exercise than studying the monthly list of winning numbers in the Premium Bonds gamble.

When the avalanche began its slide I continued for a time to examine the closing prices, and suffered agonies in the process. And after about three months of relentless misery I had had enough. One day, when, I believe, the FT index dropped another eight points, I left the page unread and in consequence rediscovered the pleasure of putting my taste buds into contact with egg and bacon, toast and marmalade. And ever since ¶ have preferred to remain in ignorance.

I am not alone in my ostrichism. My friend P takes elaborate avoiding action to prevent the BBC from inflicting stock market news upon him. He switches off the news (steam radio and telly) before the readers reach the offending items, and he does this by identifying the note of sadness with which such news is introduced. Kenneth Kendall, for example, lowers the pitch of his voice by at least a semitone and reduces his volume significantly as he approaches the day's tidings of gloom with "On the London stock market ..."

Not all of my friends are so cowardly. G, a retired civil servant, has resolved to confront the prices once a month, on the last Friday, and fortifies himself for the ordeal with an extra-large dose of vodka and lime. I admire G's courage enormously and I should dearly love to follow his example, but so far, even with the help of three large whiskies, I have been quite unable to achieve the necessary degree of bravery.

It is, unfortunately, quite impossible to isolate oneself completely from stock market news. Sometimes companies get into such difficulty that their affairs are discussed in front-page headlines and the investor .learns in spite of himself that part of his portfolio has gone up the spout. There are difficulties too with loquacious strangers in trains, pubs and restaurants. During the war a wellknown poster told us that "Careless Talk Costs Lives" and the same is true, almost, today when an investor finds himself in the presence of a committed gasbag .. .

Stranger (usually a hard-faced, middle-aged type with heavy sideburns and an aggressively floral cravat): "Heard the latest, then? OPK's gone bust. Just heard it on the news. Can't say it came _as, much of a surprise to me: their after-sales service has been putrid for years. I cant see ...

Myself: Same again, please. Publican: Did you say OPK, the car people? Oh lor!

Stranger: Can't see Wedgie Benn doing a rescue operation this time. It's a gonna. Share dealings suspended. Total loss.

Publican: 28p, sir. I said 28p, sir.

Myself: Oops, ,sorry (I remove ear-plugs). Very sorry, I didn't quite catch ... edged a four over first slip off a bumper ...

There is method in my apparent madness. Shares are falling, have been falling for two years, precisely because investors overreact to minute dips in prices. Too much news can be bad for people: they read four bits of rotten news on the trot and assume that the curve is persistently downward. In my view the Stock Exchange should be closed for six months and all dealings suspended. After all, if we can control the price of groceries, we Ought to be able to peg equities. Why not?

Labour back-benchers of the Tribune school .would explode in fury at the very suggestion of subsidies, and even I can see that to use taxpayers' money to prop up ailing ordinary shares would contravene our egalitarian principles. But the unions, which have a lot of their money, their pension fund lolly, salted away in equities might just possibly approve a move to stabilise the FT index at, say, 250.

Meanwhile, spare a thought for

those of us who struggle daily to avoid a peep at the closing prices. Most newspapers, aware that this page is extremely unpopular, would drop it like a hot brick if it was not for the money it brings in. Has the charge for insertion in the list kept place with inflation? And if not, why not? I think I shall make it my duty to raise the matter at forth-coming AGMs ...

"Can the Chairman justify expenditure on the daily publication of share details — price, yield, p/e ratio, etc — in the daily and Sunday newspapers? And isn't it time both expenditure and publication ceased? I speak as a shareholder who has lost interest in the diurnal scrutiny of share values and begrudges every penny spent on this form of advertising."

(Shouts of "Hear! Hear!" from the other shareholders present and a look of acute embarrassment on the faces of the platformed directors.) Chairman: If there are no further questions, I declare the meeting closed.