If British industry had its own Mount Rushmore, the carved rock would undoubtedly include the face of Sir Ralph Robins. As, successively, managing director, chief executive and chairman of Rolls-Royce between 1984 and 2003, he transformed the fortunes of a company that had been humbled by receivership and nationalisation in the 1970s.
Thirty years ago the engineering company was privatised again. In the face of opposition from advisers, partners and shareholders, Sir Ralph took the decision to end the agreement that confined Rolls-Royce to junior partner to the American giant General Electric in the wide-body aircraft market.
Instead, he launched the Trent project – the design and manufacture of the biggest engine the firm had ever conceived. Thirty years on, with 6,000 engines sold to 175 clients, a Trent-powered aircraft takes off or lands somewhere in the world every 10 seconds, and nine million flights have been completed without a single engine-related fatality. An astonishing safety record simply not possible under a leadership of questionable morality.
Rolls-Royce is set to power over half the world’s wide-body aircraft and its order book has risen from £2.8 billion in 1987 to £79 billion in 2016. The company and its supply chain now account for one in every 250 jobs in the UK and two per cent of all UK exports. And it is one of the very few British companies whose employee pension scheme is in surplus.
Much of the credit for that story of British triumph on the global stage is owed to Sir Ralph. And on the 30th anniversary of his setting the firm on that trajectory, his reward is to have his name and reputation dragged through the media, thanks to leaks from the Serious Fraud Office (SFO).
At such moments, fair-weather friends often take cover. I will not do that and – so high is the regard in which Sir Ralph is held – I suspect others will join me in speaking out on his behalf.
Rolls-Royce continues to face allegations of corporate bribery and corruption. Although no direct accusations have been made against Sir Ralph, he has been interviewed by investigators. That interview, with no arrest or charge involved, was then disclosed, causing untold and unfair damage to his reputation.
I have long admired Sir Ralph’s unbending commitment to British industry, and especially his unwavering investment in aero engine technology and innovation.
I was honoured and privileged to spend 22 years flying the world’s leading business figures across the Atlantic aboard Concorde. Those happy and successful years were only made possible by Rolls-Royce’s committed leaders, designers and engineers. Every aircraft that I flew in my 35 years with British Airways was powered by their engines and I have no doubt that would not have been possible without Sir Ralph.
It was also a privilege to serve with him for a number of years on the Board of Trustees for the Brooklands Museum in Surrey, dedicating ourselves to the preservation of the UK’s important and unique motoring and aviation heritage, and I came to appreciate him as a man of great character, drive and integrity. A less suitable candidate for the public stocks is hard to imagine.
Where is the public interest in dragging an 84-year-old colossus of industry into the investigation of a company he left 14 years ago? The answer has nothing to do with natural justice.
The essential background is the ‘Deferred Prosecution Agreement’ (DPA) reached between Rolls-Royce and the SFO in January, relating to charges of corruption and bribery between 1989 and 2013. Under such deals, made possible by the Crime and Courts Act 2013, companies can avoid prosecution by stumping up a fine and agreeing to specific terms of compliance. In the case of Rolls-Royce, the sum was £497m plus interest – and the SFO’s costs of £13m.
As hefty as this penalty may seem, the new system provides an incentive to businesses to avoid lengthy court cases that may do terrible damage to consumer and market confidence, whatever the full facts of the matter. One of the many downsides of the new system is that such deals do not cover individuals. In short, the company is exempted from prosecution, the SFO gets its cheque – but senior employees (in this case long-retired) are hung out to dry.
I see three converging elements here, all of them pernicious. First, retrospective justice has become an ugly industry, driven in large part by the lynch-mob mentality of social media. Professional distinction should not, of course, confer immunity from the law. But an inverse logic now seems to apply where past achievement is almost an invitation to insinuation and defamation. I am in no doubt that Sir Ralph is being pursued precisely because of his outstanding record.
Second, the DPA system is only an especially flagrant example of a much broader trend. Regulation is now openly treated as a means of raising revenue. Those under investigation are offered a fast resolution – at a price. Deliberate leaks and innuendo, like those suffered by Sir Ralph, pile on the pressure, sometimes for years. Should formal allegations ever follow, what prospect of a fair trial? Companies can buy their way out of trouble. Not so individuals.
Third, there is a worrying drift towards politicisation. The Conservative Party’s manifesto promise to scrap the Serious Fraud Office, and channel its powers into the National Crime Agency, raises important questions. What will this mean in practice? A return to a fairer, more just system, or more headline chasing of the kind the SFO has become famous for, only with a tighter political grip?
One imagines our grammar educated Prime Minister would admire Sir Ralph – a man who prospered through hard graft rather than access to the old boys’ network. He joined Rolls-Royce as a graduate apprentice in 1955 and rose through the ranks as an engineer.
As the principal architect of the company’s revival, he protected and created thousands of jobs; made possible the growth that generated untold millions in tax revenues; was resolute in his commitment to the necessary investment in aviation manufacturing in the Nineties against considerable resistance from the City; and made a significant contribution to Britain’s soft power around the world.
The financial crash spawned understandable anger at the system that had failed so badly. We can all agree that there is no place in modern business for corrupt practice. But, nine years on, I sincerely hope that if Mrs May presses on with her intention to replace the SFO, she does so with a system that puts fairness, as well as finance, at the heart of its activities.
Mike Bannister was chief pilot of BA’s Concorde fleet from 1995-2003.
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