“Isn’t it the most extraordinary development?” exclaimed the chairman of the insignificantly-sized investment company Kermitted Asset Management as we caught up on-screen the other day. “And a very good morning to you too,” I said pointedly. “Who has time for pleasantries when we could be discussing this potentially enormous breakthrough for the future of humanity?” snapped the chairman.
“Well, of course it is a massive step in the right direction,” I replied. “But I’m not sure we should be counting our chickens on this vaccine breakthrough just yet – there’s still a long way to go and …” “What on earth are you going on about?” interrupted the chairman. “Yes, yes, the vaccine’s cheery enough news but I was talking about Devan Kaloo’s moustache – please tell me you’ve watched those video links I sent you?”
“Briefly,” I nodded. “It’s very impressive CGI – though I’ve no idea to what end. Why would the good, good people of Morningstar and FundCalibre be making competing versions of a Village People biopic and auditioning Aberdeen Standard’s head of global equities for a part? Or was it a remake of ‘Magnum, PI’? As I say, I only watched briefly so don’t know if Darius McDermott suddenly rocked up in the role of Higgins.”
“Oh, that wasn’t CGI,” said the chairman with something approaching reverence. “I know it looks as if young Devan has sub-let his upper lip to a large-ish rodent – certainly my hamster Adair saw it as enough of a threat that I now need a new laptop screen – but I’ve had our tech boys run some analysis and that thing is real. I tell you – this is a real game-changer for the future of the human race.”
“I know I will regret asking,” I said slowly. “But what possible implication does that admittedly resplendent face foliage have for the outlook of our species? Unless …” “Unless …” smiled the chairman as if encouraging a small child. “Unless this is some sort of breakthrough in telepathic mind control,” I speculated. “After all, it is odd that both interviewers were chatting away to the usually clean-shaven Mr K as if nothing had changed.”
“Seriously – that’s your theory?” snorted the chairman. “That the Kaloo soup-strainer is some kind of psychic portal?” “All right, all right,” I said, gamely resisting the urge to pretend my internet was crashing. “Clearly I need this spelled out to me.” “I should have thought it was perfectly obvious but if you insist,” the chairman shrugged. “Actually, you were in the right sort of postcode when you mention the word ‘foliage’.
“The way I see it, if any man can go from zero to Burt Reynolds in a matter of weeks, then he is clearly the source of a super-strength growth hormone that could serve to eradicate world hunger in a trice. I wouldn’t be surprised if it represented a whole new eco-system. Anyway, can you imagined how sustainable we would look at Kermitted Asset Management if one of our companies scored a whole United Nations goal on its ownsome?”
“Let me get this straight,” I said. “Your big vision is to kidnap a senior member of Her Majesty’s financial services sector, extract the base ingredient for a next-generation fertilizer in ways we’d best not go into, set up a business to develop and market said fertilizer and then profit from the gratitude of the UN and the world at large?” “Well, I thought I’d try offering him the CIO job first but otherwise …” the chairman tailed off.
“Do you remember a few months back I floated the idea someone who was not 100% committed to the idea of ESG-oriented investing might actually make a better ESG-oriented fund manager?” I asked. “I guess the spark for that thesis was how, back in the late 1990s, some tech fund managers became so caught up in the science of the projects they were backing they lost sight of whether these ventures actually constituted sound investments.
“I still reckon there is something in my theory and yet, having heard the plan for solving world hunger from the least ESG-committed investor on the planet, I confess I am less confident in it than I once was.”
