By Nils Pratley
Appeared in the Daily Telegraph on 13 July 1996
Terry Smith caused a furore with his first attack on City accountants. Nils Pratley sets the scene for his second salvo.
TERRY SMITH, a leading City scribbler who provoked one of the most entertaining City rows for years with his book exposing suspect accounting methods, is back with part two. Last time, his unashamed attacks on the profits massaging he alleges was executed by some of Britain’s largest companies lost him his job.It caused acute embarrassment to Swiss investment bank UBS, where he was head of research, and lasting damage to the share price of Grand Metropolitan, the Smirnoff vodka and Ha¨ agen-Dazs ice cream giant which came bottom of the class. Accounting for Growth, mark two, is out on Monday and the targets are as big as ever. BTR, the conglomerate whose shares have fallen 27pc this year, is the company that receives most flak this time. Smith, 43, is a pure outsider who, according to his critics, attracts trouble. Before his first book, Accounting for Growth, he was best known in the City for allegedly punching a fund manager at a black-tie dinner and, as the analyst at stockbroker BZW, for advising clients to sell shares in its parent company, Barclays Bank. Smith, who talks precisely and quickly, replies ‘‘no, no and no’’ to allegations that he is ‘‘proud, arrogant and abrasive’’. But he adds: ‘‘It is a difficult job unless you have some kind of ego because you have to think you are right and others are wrong.’’ He is an unlikely hero of the accountancy world. His father was a lorry driver who contracted asbestosis after a brief spell working in an asbestos factory. His mother, he says, ‘‘cooked my dad’s dinner’’. It was an East End upbringing. George and Billy Walker were friends of the family and lived around the corner. These days he has a flat inWapping and has just bought a Georgian rectory in Essex with his wife Barbara; they have two daughters. He drives a Porsche 911 Carrera and also owns an AC Cobra, a fast 1960s sports car. He also keeps a horse, which he rides in one-day events and cross-country trials, and has a yacht moored in Cork in Ireland. He gained a first class degree in history at Cardiff University but turned down the offer of a lectureship to make some serious money instead. He joined Barclays, where he managed the Pall Mall branch before being dispatched to the finance department. There, he came into contact with stockbroking analysts and eventually joined their ranks. Between 1984 and 1989, he reigned supreme as the number one rated banking analyst and was an obvious candidate when UBS was hunting for a £300,000-ayear head of research. It was all achieved without training in formal accountancy, apart from an MBA course. ‘‘I think, in terms of analysing things, it may be a bit of handicap to be an accountant,’’ he says. ‘‘If you have enough aptitude to work out the numbers and what they mean without being an accountant you probably have an advantage because you are not in a straight - jacketed way of thinking.’’
Accounting for Growth started life as his first major research for UBS. The recession was looming and Smith sensed that accounting would become a hot subject. He suspected that much of the increase in corporate profitability in the 1980s was the result of accounting sleight of hand rather than genuine growth. Polly Peck and British & Commonwealth had gone to the wall, despite reporting profits until the last. How could it happen? One of Smith’s maxims was an old one — cash is king. ‘‘Profits are someone’s opinion (or true and fair view) whereas cash is a fact,’’ he wrote, after identifying 12 accounting techniques, all of them legal, that tended to flatter profits. The eye-catching element of research was the ‘‘major companies accounting health check’’, better known as the ‘ ‘blob guide’’. Here, Smith placed a blob
against the name of each company for each questionable technique it used. Institutional investors loved it and for two consecutive years voted it the best research they had seen. Douglas Ferrans, chief executive of Scottish Amicable Investment Managers, is a longstanding fan. ‘‘Terry won’t take anything at face value,’’ he says.
‘‘He is hyper-critical of any number that is presented to him by a company, particularly in a report and accounts. Others are now doing the same thing but Terry was genuinely ahead of his time and has done a lot of good.’’ But even some of his greatest admirers in the City say he can be prickly. Neil Tyson, fund manager at Prolific, says, half in jest:
‘‘I think it’s the Napoleon complex with being so small [Smith is about 5ft 7in tall]. He comes across as a bit arrogant but you just have to give as good as you get with him. Everything is either right or wrong and there is never any grey area with Terry. Professionally, I find him very useful.’’ David Poutney, banking analyst at Panmure Gordon and a friend and colleage for over 20 years, says: ‘‘What he does have is a very cutting wit. He definitely does not suffer fools gladly and he can be very aggressive.’’ The drama began when Smith was invited by publisher Random House to turn the Accounting for Growth research into a book. Tiphook, the container rentals group, knew it would be featured and wanted to know what was being said. So, too, did Grand Met, which discovered from early press reports that it had scored the most blobs. Sir Allen Sheppard,Grand Met’s chairman, inquired. Then, Sir Colin Marshall, British Airways chairman and a Grand Met non-exectuive director, did the same. UBS and Smith rowed internally for while, with the bank arguing that in-house rules laid down that research should be shown to companies in advance and Smith saying there was no such guideline and that the book was now in the hands of Random House. UBS then sued the publisher and first suspended, then fired, Smith. Smith counter-sued and the actions were settled out of court only 18 months later. The episode touched raw nerves. UBS vigorously defended itself against the charge that it was appeasing angry clients; Smith denied he had engineered the dispute; Ernst & Young waded into the argument , denouncing the book as ‘‘dangerous and irresponsible’’. Even to this day, the details of who said what are being cleared up. In March this year, within a week of retiring from Grand Met, Sir Allen, now Lord Sheppard, fixed a meeting with Smith. ‘‘All I wanted him to know was, just for the record, that I didn’t try to get him sacked,’’ says Lord Sheppard. ‘‘I also congratulated him on the fact that, although he didn’t do our share price any good, he had handled the whole thing quite skilfully in terms of public relations.’’ For Smith, the moral is clear. ‘‘I feel vindicated on a number of counts,’’ he says. ‘‘The two companies that complained were Tiphook and Grand Met. Tiphook has, for all practicable purposes, gone bust and Grand Met has underperformed the market by a huge amount, which is not a bad record.’’ Smith’s personal earnings, meanwhile, have outperformed. Thanks to the row, the book sold an astonishing 55,000 copies. He is now a partner at Collins Stewart, a boutique stockbroking house, and says he makes more than he ever did at UBS. As a sideline, he has even tried his own hand at business, becoming an Athena franchisee. ‘‘I had the only franchise agreement that had a put option to sell the thing back to Pentos [the parent company],’’ he says. His timing was impeccable. He exercised the option in November 1994; by New Year, the receivers were in at Pentos. He manages all his own money, showing a bias for small companies.
At the moment he is ‘‘pretty liquid’’ but has investments in Azlan, Business Post, Quadramatic, and Rutland Trust. Amid all the fuss, it is easy to overlook the fact that one of the main aims of the books is to help investors, large and small. For both, he has a message: ‘‘You can’t get some guy to write you a guide for £14.99 that will make you a fortune. You have to read the guide, and an awful lot besides, and then do a lot of hard work. It is sad but true.’’
© Telegraph Media Group Limited 1996
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