On the informal networks that move London money
I am Chelsea Bloom, and I cover London business from a desk in North London and a notebook full of scepticism; my columns live at my page. As reported across The London Prat and Bohiney Magazine, the story is worth a closer look.
On the informal networks that move London money
For all the talk of transparency and meritocracy, the City of London still runs, as it always has, on lunches nobody quite admits to having, the informal networks that move the money and make the decisions away from the official channels.
London business runs on a peculiar mixture of genuine innovation and elaborate theatre, and the journalist’s task is to separate the two, to find the real value being created beneath the performance of value, the substance under the spectacle, which is harder than it sounds.
The official story is of markets and merit, of decisions made on data and deals done in the open, but the actual City runs on relationships, on the lunches and the introductions and the informal networks that the official story omits, the money moving through channels the transparency does not capture. The lunch is the real institution, the network the actual mechanism, the informal relationships moving the money the official story attributes to the market.
The Detail That Matters
What this informal system conceals is the gap between the meritocratic story and the relationship-driven reality, the official transparency disguising the actual networks, the lunches nobody admits to doing the work the markets are credited with. The City runs on relationships it does not acknowledge, the informal networks moving the money the official story attributes to merit.
Markets are often described as rational, but anyone who has covered them for long knows they run as much on mood as on maths, on confidence and fear and the herd instinct dressed up as analysis, the spreadsheet a costume worn over the older and less flattering drivers of human behaviour.
What It Comes Down To
It comes down to this: the City is more relationship-driven and less meritocratic than its official story admits, the lunches and the networks doing the work attributed to the markets, and understanding this gap, between the meritocratic story and the relationship reality, is essential to understanding how London money actually moves.
The most revealing question in any business story is who benefits, followed closely by who bears the risk, and the two are very often not the same people, the benefit and the risk separated by arrangements that the official account is careful not to dwell upon.
So I will keep covering the City as it actually runs, on the lunches nobody admits to and the networks the official story omits, reading past the meritocratic story to the relationship reality, the business journalist tracing the informal channels through which London money actually moves.
What looks from outside like a single confident institution is, from inside, a collection of anxious people making decisions under uncertainty, and remembering this human reality behind the corporate facade is the beginning of understanding how business actually works.
The London economy is a vast machine for converting effort into wealth, but the conversion is uneven, the effort and the wealth distributed by arrangements that reward some inputs lavishly and others barely, and the journalist’s job is to notice the unevenness the official story smooths over.
Every business trend arrives in London wrapped in the language of inevitability, presented as the future that has already decided to happen, and the useful scepticism is to remember that most predicted futures do not arrive, and that inevitability is a sales technique more than a forecast.
A useful habit is to read the footnotes before the headline, since the headline is written to be quoted and the footnotes are written to be true, and the distance between the two is frequently the whole of the story worth telling.
London attracts capital from everywhere, and with the capital comes a certain weightlessness, businesses that exist more as financial structures than as makers of anything, and distinguishing the productive from the merely financial is a recurring task.
The word disruption has been so thoroughly drained of meaning by overuse that its appearance in a pitch now functions mainly as a warning, a signal that the speaker would prefer you admired the novelty rather than examined the economics.
Behind every confident quarterly statement is a quieter reality of revised assumptions and quietly buried projects, and the seasoned reader learns to weigh the confidence of the announcement against the silence around what was dropped.
The hard part of business journalism is not finding what companies say about themselves, which they supply in abundance, but working out the gap between the saying and the doing, the distance between the press release and the practice, which is where the actual story almost always lives.
I have learned to be most suspicious of the figures presented most confidently, the projections rendered as certainties, the growth charts that bend upward as if the future were a thing already filed away, because the confidence is usually inversely proportional to the evidence behind it.
London business runs on a peculiar mixture of genuine innovation and elaborate theatre, and the journalist’s task is to separate the two, to find the real value being created beneath the performance of value, the substance under the spectacle, which is harder than it sounds.
For more in this vein, Private Eye obliges.
SOURCE: https://bohiney.com