There are some traits that unite the very best business leaders—and the late Sir John Harvey-Jones had them all in abundance
I was saddened by the death in January of Sir John Harvey-Jones. He transformed the loss-making ICI into a business earning profits of more than £1bn during his five-year chairmanship in the 1980s. But his starring role in the popular BBC Troubleshooter programmes a decade later turned him into something of a national treasure and sparked the general public's interest in business. He was one of the first business leaders I ever profiled and my abiding memory is of drinking whisky with him in a Mayfair hotel and discussing all manner of topics, from the joys of tube travel and eating fish and chips to taking your dog in to the office—all activities he relished.
With his long hair, loud ties and refreshing directness, he was one of the most flamboyant businessmen we are ever likely to see. His charisma wasn't affected or studied: he insisted that his "oddness" stemmed from his very ordinariness, his desire to be himself and tell it as it was. He arguably did more than anyone to break down the historic class divisions endemic in corporate life in the 1980s. When he eschewed the directors' dining room for a sandwich and a glass of wine in the staff canteen, it was out of choice rather than "to sell red beads to the natives", as he put it.
Sir John combined business acumen and flair, tough decision-making and strong people skills born of sensitivity, empathy and a deep sense of responsibility to those he worked with. In today's process-oriented, rule-bound and increasingly short-term business climate, this combination of talents is rare. That's a pity, as a bit of flair and empathy can go a long way when times are tough. Such qualities are also, of course, more interesting to observe and be around than the kind of "virtual" management practised from behind a computer screen by the ranks of grey-suited automatons that run some of our biggest businesses today.
Reflecting on Sir John's style and achievements prompted me to think about what has impressed me most about other business leaders I've interviewed. Some stand out for the wrong reasons. One, for example, kept me waiting outside his open office door for half an hour while he finished off a personal phone call. In the article I talked about his habit of moving through companies without touching the sides. When the profile was published, he rang and berated me for what he described as "a personal attack", merely compounding my initial impression of a boss with a grossly inflated ego.
In fact, I usually find that the way in which business leaders treat me as a journalist reflects the way they treat everyone they meet, from shareholders and analysts, to suppliers, staff and customers. You've only got to ring a few up to find out what they think. It amazes me how many executives move on to bigger jobs despite their questionable achievements and the poor opinion of most people with whom they have come into contact. It makes you wonder what headhunters do for their money.
The people I admire have many things in common, including honesty, integrity, respect, directness, charm, humour and interest in people. Camelot chief executive Dianne Thompson always asks about my family when we speak. Former BBC boss Greg Dyke summed up his management style as "you have to be straight." Sir Clive Thompson, the long-serving former chief executive of Rentokil Initial, admits: "Most chief executives are pretty strange people." Ex-GrandMet chairman Lord Sheppard of Didgemere describes his management style as "a light grip on the gonads," while ace venture capitalist Jon Moulton tells me: "We don't have voicemail and all this kind of crap. We're in service."
But perhaps the qualities that most distinguish my business heroes from their less successful peers are self-knowledge and humility. Sir John described himself as "just your average slob with a bigger job than most". The business world might be a better place if more of its inhabitants stepped down from their pedestals and acknowledged the truth in another of his observations: "So-called supermen are just the same mixed-up bums as you or I."
Jane Simms is the former editor of Financial Director and Marketing Business

