Tim Smit's optimistic vision rallied business leaders at the IoD Annual Convention, but the Eden Project visionary didn't have a monopoly on wise words

I like the cut of Tim Smit's jib. He talks such a lot of sense. I arrived late for the IoD Annual Convention and snuck in to my seat to find the chief executive and co-founder of the Eden Project in full flow. Striding around the stage in crumpled shirtsleeves and jeans, he blew gales of energy and optimism around the dark and hallowed cavern of the Royal Albert Hall, defying the continuing economic gloom and despondency outside.

"This is the most exciting time to be alive," he declared, and the ripple of approval that spread around the tiered banks of dark-suited delegates suggested there's a lot more glass-half-full than half-empty thinking in the business community, despite repeated warnings that the pain of the recession is by no means over.

Smit is an inspirational leader—one who walks the talk rather than setting himself up as "The Big I Am". Indeed, he does exactly the opposite. People are generous if you admit your ignorance, but will quickly prick your bubble if you pretend to be something you are not, he pointed out. Humorous, irreverent and profane, he marries vision and emotion with pragmatism.

Businesses are about people, he said—"and if you can create a story where people can believe in themselves, magic happens". He uses local suppliers, and his senior team work regularly in customer-facing roles to find out for themselves the kind of problems—such as digging soiled nappies out of U-bends or struggling to dispense wrist-wrenchingly-cold ice cream—that might prevent front-line staff from having a good time. And he is proud that his risky decision to build a massive, and successful, outdoor ice rink last year has stopped him having to make redundancies.

A passionate social entrepreneur, Smit is a great role model. But he didn't have the monopoly on wise words at the convention. The juxtaposition of the two words, chairman and chief executive, in Marks & Spencer boss Sir Stuart Rose's title are controversial. But, as he pointed out, the Combined Code asks companies to either comply or explain, and he set out to justify—once again—why he felt it necessary to deviate from best corporate governance practice.

It's a simple question of timing, he said, combined with a determination not to repeat "the bungled succession" at the end of 1999 that arrested the company's performance until he took over four years later.

"We've got a top team on the pitch, but I need to ensure they play consistent football, and we're not there yet," he said. "I'm waiting for an internal candidate to emerge, and if, within 18 months, that hasn't happened, we will look externally."

It sounded reasonable. With so much at stake, not least Rose's commitment to make M&S a carbon-neutral business by 2012, a recession is not the time to take chances on a new chief executive.
Other gems included the comment by Luke Johnson, serial entrepreneur and chairman of Channel 4, that too many senior executives in big corporations spend too much time on politics. It made me wonder how much more effective some companies might be if they just culled their top layer of people.

There was an interesting counterpoint by Lord Coe, former athlete and MP, and now chairman of the London Organising Committee of the Olympic Games, who felt that too few politicians have experience of the realities of life to make effective decisions on behalf of real people. I bet Tim Smit could help.

But despite what seems to be a regressive relationship between business and government, the speakers were overwhelmingly positive about the opportunities to be seized in the current climate. Smit summed up the mood with his appeal to delegates to "think laterally, meet new people, embrace the future, do the stuff you want to before you die, laugh".