‘Britain is back,” declared the business secretary, Jonathan Reynolds, as he opened the investment summit at Guildhall in London. But English may not be. There’s something about a business awayday that deprives normally sentient beings of the power of language.
Put a whole heap of CEOs together in the same room and you can guarantee that within seconds they will be speaking in a tongue almost no one can understand. Largely because they are asleep. It is a world of cliche and jargon where normal sentences are deprived of internal logic and meaning. Hard to believe, but you don’t become head of a multinational without first having learned to speak Pure Doggybollocks. It is the code that admits you to the club.
It’s also a club that all politicians want to join. They go weak in the presence of money. Not just to secure investment for the country. Though that’s the principal excuse. It’s the proximity to wealth. The global elite.
Just remember when Rishi Sunak met Elon Musk last year. A man with many more millions than he can possibly spend fawning over a man with more billions than he can possibly spend. It doesn’t matter how rich you are, how powerful you are, there’s always someone out there who’s got more than you. Let the simpering begin.
It’s a rarefied world where everyone knows their place. The politicians may be in government, but it is the business leaders who hold the real power. This is not a meeting of equals. When CEOs are dangling the promise of billions of pounds of investment, all former promises get burned.
Spare a thought for the transport secretary, who last week found herself merely repeating what was then government policy. P&O Ferries, and their parent company, DP World, were deemed rogue operators for their treatment of employees.
That was before DP World was due to make an appearance in London with the offer of a £1bn port expansion. Suddenly all bets were off. A public slapdown for Louise Haigh from the prime minister.
Fire and rehire? Suits us, sir! Hell, we’ve done the same with Sue Gray. So please, please, don’t go away. We love you really. Give us your dosh. It’s not exactly edifying, but it’s the way of the world.
So Keir Starmer was in supplicant mode when he gave his opening address to the summit. Virtually lying prostrate on the stage before the assembled guests. Ready to talk whatever nonsensical jargon was necessary.
Hell, Keir is never the most fluent or engaging of speakers at the best of times. But this time he was on virtual Maybot. And why not, I guess? This time last year, Rish! could only secure £29bn of inward investment at his “Britain is Back” summit – Keir had pulled in more than double that in just three months in government. Not a bad haul.
Even so, Starmer’s speech was an uphill struggle. He tried to break the ice with a couple of crap gags. He should have learned not to bother by now. He got zero laughs. The CEOs hadn’t flown in on their private jets to hear a comedy routine. What they were really after were the tax breaks. Keir then lapsed into mindlessness. Words assembled in a random order for the full sedative effect. To give everyone a chance to recover from jet lag.
“Calmer waters”, “stability leads to growth and growth leads to stability”, “rolling the pitch”. The UK was a great place to invest, he insisted. Mmm. The business leaders might have thought differently if they had listened to Keir back in August. Then he had summoned us all back from our summer holidays to tell us that everything was rubbish and would continue to be miserable for the foreseeable future. Most of us would be better off dying now. But here, for one day only, things were now great.
There were four main strategy areas. Stability, strategy – I dozed off through the third one – and regulation.
Again, don’t be put off by what you might have heard of Labour’s workers’ rights proposals. They were nothing to worry the pretty little heads of the CEOs. If anything they would contribute to growth. Because Keir would get rid of every bit of regulation they didn’t like. Apart from the bits the Tories were forced to bring in as a result of Brexit and which Labour are too timid to reverse.
That was the main Brexit takeaway: try to pretend it had never happened. And don’t worry too much about building new airports because we’ll be powering the lights in the departure hall by solar power. The Green Agenda lives!
Finally, a personal plea. If anyone has any investment queries in the coming days or months, “just talk to my team. Call me, Rachel, Jonny or Ed.” But not Lou.
A helpful spad passed around details of the entire cabinet’s private numbers. On speed-dials. This was the kind of access that shouted “Time to Back Britain.”
Next up was an awkward 20-minute Q&A between Keir, former Google boss Eric Schmidt and the GSK chief executive, Emma Walmsley. One that sounded suspiciously more like a job interview for the prime minister. One that he was obliged to wing his way through as he hadn’t prepared properly. That’s the whole point of being part of the business in-crowd. You can soon identify an outsider by shifting a gear to a yet higher level of bollocks.
“I am mission-driven and there are clear landing paths,” Keir said, more in hope than anything else. Business could rely on him to be still there in a week’s time, which was more than could be said of previous Tory prime ministers.
Schmidt cut to the chase. He hadn’t been expecting a Labour government, but a pushover was a pushover. You will make sure to get rid of any regulations I – I mean, we – don’t like. “Oh, yes sir. Whatever you want.” And you will do better on AI, won’t you? We need more data centres.
“Count on me, sir,” said Starmer. “I am very much a leaning in rather than a leaning out kind of guy.”
Thank you. You can go now.
Let the schmoozing begin. Whose fortune was the biggest? Who would get front row seats for the private Elton John concert later that evening? Some guys have all the luck.
Taking the Lead by John Crace is published by Little, Brown (£18.99). To support the Guardian and Observer, order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.
A year in Westminster: John Crace, Marina Hyde and Pippa Crerar. On Tuesday 3 December, join Crace, Hyde and Crerar as they look back at a political year like no other, live at the Barbican in London and livestreamed globally. Book tickets here or at guardian.live.
