The difficult birth of a new era
Saturday, 29 December 2007
"I don't think age is a factor. Look at the age of the people who are running today for [US] president. There's a new era here. The 65 age thing is out of date."
Thus replied the 64-year-old Neville Isdell when the Financial Times asked him whether he would relinquish the job of chief executive of Coca-Cola by the time he turned 65, the company's informal retirement age.
That was three months ago. More recently, the youthful-looking Isdell announced he would step down in favour of his heir apparent, Muhtar Kent.
When? Why, a month after his 65th birthday, in July next year.
No one will begrudge Isdell his second retirement - he was dragged away from the golf course in 2004 to end Douglas Daft's short and torrid stint at Coke's helm.
But whatever happen to the "new era" of septuagenarians in charge? Observer bets someone like 71-year-old candidate for the Republican nomination John McCain would love to know.
Clarity at last
The Bush administration's attitude towards the provision in the Kyoto protocol on climate change is known to oscillate between the contemptuous and hostile.
So journalists at a US delegation press briefing at the United Nations' Bali climate change conference could hardly believe their ears when Harlan Watson, Washington's chief negotiator, said he was "pleased" to hear a US Senate committee had approved a bill that would establish a "cap-and-trade" system to limit carbon emissions.
Had the administration, with little fanfare, reversed policy on fighting climate change? Was the US about to follow the lead of Australia, which ratified the protocol on Monday after years of standing beside the US in opposition?
Alas not - or, not as far as the green lobby was concerned. When asked to explain why he was pleased, Watson found he had dug himself into a hole.
He eventually managed to say he was pleased there was now "clarity" over the Senate's position after months of deliberation.
Pay-off in the end
Glenn Stevens sparked a heated political debate in Australia last month when the central bank he leads took the unprecedented step of lifting interest rates in the midst of the country's federal election campaign.
It dealt John Howard a nasty blow, undermining a promise he had made to keep rates at record lows.
Shortly thereafter, Howard was thrown out as prime minister and from his own federal seat of Bennelong.
Stevens was well aware the government had the power to terminate his services. The country's treasurer had the ability to remove him for various offences, including failing to be "of good behaviour".
Barely a week before the rate rise, Peter Costello, then treasurer, had made his position clear. He attempted to dissuade the central bank from such a move when he argued Australia would face a financial "tsunami" should China ever float its currency.
But under Kevin Rudd's new Labour government, Stevens' tenure is much more certain.
Labour has now elevated Stevens' role so it enjoys the same level of independence as that of the commissioner of taxation and the country's official statistician.
The power of dismissal has been removed from the treasurer and will now rest with the country's two houses of parliament.
It's good news for Stevens, who joined the Reserve Bank of Australia in 1980 and has spent his entire career there, apart from a spell as a visiting scholar at the Federal Reserve Bank of San Francisco.
Tough decisions, it seems, can have long-term advantages.
Run on the band
Each December, a video game arcade sets up shop for three short days in midtown Manhattan and it does not admit children.
This adult arcade is located in the Hyatt hotel, and is part of the annual media conference thrown by investment bank UBS.
The event draws hundreds of the media analysts and investors who hang on the words of big media bosses such as NBC's Jeff Zucker and CBS's Les Moonves.
Yet one of the conference's more popular draws is a corridor to the side of the ballrooms, where three flat-screen Samsung televisions are hooked up to the latest video-game players.
The impromptu arcade is a good place for a group of stressed-out financiers to blow off steam between presentations. It also helps with industry research.
Last year, for example, any investor who had glimpsed the crowd of grown men lined up to play Nintendo's Wii - and the adolescent delight in their faces - could not have been surprised that the little-known console would outsell more highly touted systems from Sony and Microsoft.
On a recent afternoon at this year's conference, one attendee was honing his short game on Wii golf while another blasted his way through the alleys of Falluja, gunning down masked insurgents with the detachment of a day trader.
The big attraction, though, was a console featuring Rock Band, a game that allows contestants to perform in a virtual band using an electronic guitar and drum kit.
A crowd formed as one attendee bashed out Nirvana's "In Bloom" and other anthems not typically seen being performed by men in suits and starched shirts.
"They love banging on the drums," a UBS employee said.
Barroso wields carrot and stick
José Manuel Barroso, European Commission president, prepared for the European Union's summit with African leaders by saying on Thursday he had had some unforgettable times in Africa. The former Portuguese development minister helped negotiate peace in Angola after his country pulled out in a messy end to its colonial rule, against which he had protested as a student.
Dealing with rebel leaders is nothing new, so he said that he would greet Robert Mugabe, the Zimbabwean president accused of plunging his country into chaos. "If you are an international leader then you are going to have to be prepared to meet some people your mother would not like you to meet," he explained.
The EU has bent over backwards to accommodate Mugabe. It rescinded a travel ban to allow him to come to the Lisbon event - otherwise the rest of Africa would have staged a no-show in solidarity.
However, Barroso did criticise ex-guerrilla leaders "who believe in liberating their country but not their people". And, he said, he got a taste of Zimbabwean censorship himself, mentioning an article for the leading Herald newspaper that included a reference to the country's "violations of human rights".
It was reproduced faithfully, he said, but with the addition of one word - "alleged" - in front of the reference to human rights violations.
Open to all
The Chinese are coming to Lisbon too. This weekend's Europe-Africa summit in the Portuguese capital has some special guests in addition to Mugabe and his Zimbabwean hangers-on.
China is sending a delegation of observers, just to keep an eye on what's happening. This is interesting as one of the main points of the summit, at least from the EU's perspective, is to combat China's increasing influence in Africa.
One might have thought that the Europeans would want to be more discreet about their charm offensive towards Africa, but openness comes first. "In the name of transparency, all are welcome," said one European diplomat.
Thus replied the 64-year-old Neville Isdell when the Financial Times asked him whether he would relinquish the job of chief executive of Coca-Cola by the time he turned 65, the company's informal retirement age.
That was three months ago. More recently, the youthful-looking Isdell announced he would step down in favour of his heir apparent, Muhtar Kent.
When? Why, a month after his 65th birthday, in July next year.
No one will begrudge Isdell his second retirement - he was dragged away from the golf course in 2004 to end Douglas Daft's short and torrid stint at Coke's helm.
But whatever happen to the "new era" of septuagenarians in charge? Observer bets someone like 71-year-old candidate for the Republican nomination John McCain would love to know.
Clarity at last
The Bush administration's attitude towards the provision in the Kyoto protocol on climate change is known to oscillate between the contemptuous and hostile.
So journalists at a US delegation press briefing at the United Nations' Bali climate change conference could hardly believe their ears when Harlan Watson, Washington's chief negotiator, said he was "pleased" to hear a US Senate committee had approved a bill that would establish a "cap-and-trade" system to limit carbon emissions.
Had the administration, with little fanfare, reversed policy on fighting climate change? Was the US about to follow the lead of Australia, which ratified the protocol on Monday after years of standing beside the US in opposition?
Alas not - or, not as far as the green lobby was concerned. When asked to explain why he was pleased, Watson found he had dug himself into a hole.
He eventually managed to say he was pleased there was now "clarity" over the Senate's position after months of deliberation.
Pay-off in the end
Glenn Stevens sparked a heated political debate in Australia last month when the central bank he leads took the unprecedented step of lifting interest rates in the midst of the country's federal election campaign.
It dealt John Howard a nasty blow, undermining a promise he had made to keep rates at record lows.
Shortly thereafter, Howard was thrown out as prime minister and from his own federal seat of Bennelong.
Stevens was well aware the government had the power to terminate his services. The country's treasurer had the ability to remove him for various offences, including failing to be "of good behaviour".
Barely a week before the rate rise, Peter Costello, then treasurer, had made his position clear. He attempted to dissuade the central bank from such a move when he argued Australia would face a financial "tsunami" should China ever float its currency.
But under Kevin Rudd's new Labour government, Stevens' tenure is much more certain.
Labour has now elevated Stevens' role so it enjoys the same level of independence as that of the commissioner of taxation and the country's official statistician.
The power of dismissal has been removed from the treasurer and will now rest with the country's two houses of parliament.
It's good news for Stevens, who joined the Reserve Bank of Australia in 1980 and has spent his entire career there, apart from a spell as a visiting scholar at the Federal Reserve Bank of San Francisco.
Tough decisions, it seems, can have long-term advantages.
Run on the band
Each December, a video game arcade sets up shop for three short days in midtown Manhattan and it does not admit children.
This adult arcade is located in the Hyatt hotel, and is part of the annual media conference thrown by investment bank UBS.
The event draws hundreds of the media analysts and investors who hang on the words of big media bosses such as NBC's Jeff Zucker and CBS's Les Moonves.
Yet one of the conference's more popular draws is a corridor to the side of the ballrooms, where three flat-screen Samsung televisions are hooked up to the latest video-game players.
The impromptu arcade is a good place for a group of stressed-out financiers to blow off steam between presentations. It also helps with industry research.
Last year, for example, any investor who had glimpsed the crowd of grown men lined up to play Nintendo's Wii - and the adolescent delight in their faces - could not have been surprised that the little-known console would outsell more highly touted systems from Sony and Microsoft.
On a recent afternoon at this year's conference, one attendee was honing his short game on Wii golf while another blasted his way through the alleys of Falluja, gunning down masked insurgents with the detachment of a day trader.
The big attraction, though, was a console featuring Rock Band, a game that allows contestants to perform in a virtual band using an electronic guitar and drum kit.
A crowd formed as one attendee bashed out Nirvana's "In Bloom" and other anthems not typically seen being performed by men in suits and starched shirts.
"They love banging on the drums," a UBS employee said.
Barroso wields carrot and stick
José Manuel Barroso, European Commission president, prepared for the European Union's summit with African leaders by saying on Thursday he had had some unforgettable times in Africa. The former Portuguese development minister helped negotiate peace in Angola after his country pulled out in a messy end to its colonial rule, against which he had protested as a student.
Dealing with rebel leaders is nothing new, so he said that he would greet Robert Mugabe, the Zimbabwean president accused of plunging his country into chaos. "If you are an international leader then you are going to have to be prepared to meet some people your mother would not like you to meet," he explained.
The EU has bent over backwards to accommodate Mugabe. It rescinded a travel ban to allow him to come to the Lisbon event - otherwise the rest of Africa would have staged a no-show in solidarity.
However, Barroso did criticise ex-guerrilla leaders "who believe in liberating their country but not their people". And, he said, he got a taste of Zimbabwean censorship himself, mentioning an article for the leading Herald newspaper that included a reference to the country's "violations of human rights".
It was reproduced faithfully, he said, but with the addition of one word - "alleged" - in front of the reference to human rights violations.
Open to all
The Chinese are coming to Lisbon too. This weekend's Europe-Africa summit in the Portuguese capital has some special guests in addition to Mugabe and his Zimbabwean hangers-on.
China is sending a delegation of observers, just to keep an eye on what's happening. This is interesting as one of the main points of the summit, at least from the EU's perspective, is to combat China's increasing influence in Africa.
One might have thought that the Europeans would want to be more discreet about their charm offensive towards Africa, but openness comes first. "In the name of transparency, all are welcome," said one European diplomat.