It is always dangerous, given that the City of London Corporation has been
around in one form or another for a millennium or so, to assume that any
event there is unprecedented. But Monday’s Mansion House banquet is probably
the first at which guests will eat meat raised by the new Lord Mayor himself.
David Lewis, with almost 40 years’ experience as a City lawyer, still
maintains the Carmarthenshire hill farm where his forebears have raised
sheep for generations, a background he describes as “Chapel, Methodist,
Baptist, heavy-grade religious, no alcohol . . . Not like that any more, but
that’s the history.”
The farm is run by his cousins. “If you ask me, can I shear a sheep, yes I
can,” he says, and produces a photograph to prove it. The farm is part of a
syndicate in the valley that supplies, among others, J Sainsbury, and its
award-winning produce will be on the menu at Monday’s banquet to welcome him
to his year in office.
Mr Lewis is one of the few in his family not to speak Welsh, a deficiency he
intends to rectify at nearby University of Wales, Lampeter after his spell
as Lord Mayor. His grandfather was the last to be a full-time farmer; his
father, T.P.M “Tiny”, broke with the family tradition by winning a
scholarship to Jesus College, Oxford, where his son would himself study in
the 1960s.
“He couldn’t get work after the 1926 General Strike so he went abroad. In
those days you either went to India or Malaya,” Mr Lewis explains. His
father spent 30 years in the colonial education service in the latter, and
when the time came, put his son on a plane to Dragon School in Oxford.
“I wasn’t good enough to get into Oxford [University] on history and classics.
In those days law . . . I wouldn’t describe it as the easy option, but it
was easier to get in. That’s why I did law.”
It was a fortunate accident. “What I would have loved to have done was teach.
I’m afraid there wasn’t enough money.” He joined the City firm Norton Rose
as an articled clerk and has been there ever since. “You find yourself on a
conveyor belt and it is hard to get off. Then you think, I’m enjoying this.
Then they send you off to Hong Kong and you think, great.”
After he qualified as a solicitor, he was posted to the corporate finance
department. This was in 1972, when the mergers and acquisitions market was
buzzing, and huge beasts such as Jimmy Goldsmith and Slater Walker were
devouring undervalued prey. Mr Lewis discovered a love for contested
takeovers, though he also advised on stock market flotations such as the
original Mothercare business.
He worked on landmark City bids such as BTR’s attempted takeover of Pilkington
in 1985, Imperial Group’s assault on United Biscuits in the same year, which
was frustrated by Lord Hanson, and the agreed Guinness merger with Grand
Metropolitan in 1997. HSBC has been a long-time client and he advised on the
bank’s 1992 takeover of Midland.
How many hostile deals has he seen? “I’ve done hundreds of the things,” he
laughs. “It is huge fun, trying to outwit the opposition.” In those days the
rules were more relaxed, especially regarding the dirt that could be flung
in newspaper advertisments. “You don’t know where you are every day. You
come into work and there’s a new ploy.”
This M&A work was interrupted by the secondary banking crisis of 1973 and
1974, when the music stopped and one of two of the big players, Slater
Walker for one, found themselves without chairs. “Lawyers are quite lucky
because even when things go bad there is always plenty of work.
“I’ve seen three pretty major downturns in the market over the past 38 years.
I sometimes think some of our youngsters, brokers, lawyers, who haven’t
experienced a downturn need to learn the importance of prudence and risk
analysis.”
Does he accept the view that this year’s credit crunch best resembles that
1973-74 crash? “I don’t think it is anything like as bad as the secondary
banking crisis. It is very different. If you analyse the position, where did
it start? The US. It didn’t start in the UK. Has any bank gone bust? No. Has
any depositor lost any money? No. Has the Bank of England lost any money?
No. The fundamentals are good. The profitability of UK plc is good. The
stock market is in pretty good shape. Yes, perhaps we don’t yet know the
full extent.
“I’m not a doom and gloom merchant, I’m afraid.”
In 1979, Mr Lewis moved to Hong Kong, where he spent four years as senior
partner at Norton Rose’s new branch there. The colony was a place where the
rule book had been written but was not always followed, he admits. “We
brought London standards to the Hong Kong market.”
Like many long-time market practitioners, he admits some concern that, in
today’s City, those standards could be at risk. “Integrity. Trust. Fairness.
Honesty. Hard work. Charity. Helping others. These are the ageless values
that my father taught me and my school taught me. I think a little bit of
that is being diluted.
“I intend to be banging on about that and to bore everyone if necessary.
Because the City without that is nothing.”
In particular, he worries about a growing willingness to compromise over
conflicts of interest, especially where large fees are involved. With a
lawyer’s caution he refuses to name names, but we agree that there have been
occasions where large banks have sacrificed long-standing clients in favour
of a lucrative new mandate elsewhere. “I’ve many, many times over the years
said, ‘I’m sorry, I can’t act for you.’”
He is also concerned about the brutal pace of work in the City, especially in
the law. All the big law firms operate 24 hours a day, seven days a week, on
a shift system to service clients all around the world. “People are working
religiously and continually harder than they ever have in the past. I do
regret it. I don’t think it’s healthy. I think there will be more burnouts
for youngsters in all walks of life.”
His own workload lightened significantly in 2003 when the rules required him,
after six years as senior partner at Norton Rose and aged 55, to stand down
and he opted not to go back to full-time M&A work. Most big law firms
impose a strict time limit on how long you can spend at the top.
“We’re not thrown out of the office but we are encouraged to go. I said to
myself, ‘am I going to go back to all-nighters and all-weekenders?’ No, I’m
not. I would quite like to be a consultant.”
This freed up time for other activities in the City, including last year as a
sheriff and this year’s mayoral run, and for charitable work. He is chairman
of the governors of his old school, an almoner and governor of Christ’s
Hospital, and he sits as a City magistrate. He has chosen as his charities,
while in office, Wellbeing for Women, which specialises in women’s health,
and Orbis, working to prevent childhood blindness.
Consultancy also left more time for that 30-acre Welsh farm, where he intends
to move to full-time with his wife, Theresa, a former teacher and an amateur
potter, from their Oxford home. The move will have to wait, though, until
the next year, with its 900-odd speeches and four months spent abroad, is
over.
Such relative idleness will not come easily. Mr Lewis admits that the first
couple of years after stepping down as senior partner were hard. “It was
like coming off a drug – not that I know what coming off a drug is like,” he
corrects himself hurriedly. It is a typical cautious lawyer’s qualification.
“I think like a lawyer. I’m very prudent, very risk-averse,” he admits. “I
have been really lucky because I found by accident something that I really
enjoyed doing. How many grandsons of a Welsh sheep farmer have that kind of
luck?”
Country to City
David Lewis
Born1947
1969 Articled clerk at Norton Rose
1972 Qualifies as solicitor specialising in corporate finance
1977 Made partner
1979 - 1982 Managing partner, Hong Kong office
1997 – 2003 Chairman and senior partner
2001 Elected Alderman of the City, Broad Street ward
2006 – 2007 Sheriff, City of London
2007 – 2008 Lord Mayor of London
Married, one son, one daughter
Beyond Whittington
—The first recorded Mayor of London was Henry Fitz-Ailwyn in 1189. Since then,
some 700 men and one woman have held the position of chief officer of the
City of London
—The title of Lord Mayor was used after 1354, when it was granted to Thomas
Legge by King Edward III. The most famous Lord Mayor was Dick Whittington,
who held office three times, in 1397, 1406 and 1419. He was not a poor
orphan, but came from a wealthy family and was a successful wool and silk
merchant before becoming Lord Mayor. The black cat that supposedly helped
him to find his fortune is a myth of unknown origin
—The Lord Mayor serves a ceremonial and social, rather than political,
function and primarily promotes London’s business interests abroad
—The Lord Mayor serves a one-year term, during which time he travels
extensively around the world to promote the Square Mile and Britain’s
financial community. It is based in the capital, but also includes regional
financial centres
—The election of Lord Mayor is held annually at the end of September in
Guildhall. The assembly, known as Common Hall, consists of all liverymen of
at least one year’s standing together with certain high officers of the
City. All aldermen who have served the office of sheriff and who have not
already been Lord Mayor are eligible
—As head of the City of London, the Lord Mayor presides over its governing
bodies, the Court of Aldermen and the Court of Common Council. He is also
Chief Magistrate of the City of London and Admiral of the Port of London. As
well as travelling, he also hosts meetings with visiting business and
government officials
—The Lord Mayor’s appointment each year is marked by the Lord Mayor’s Show,
where he travels to the City of Westminster to swear allegiance to the
monarch in the presence of High Court judges. His official residence is
Mansion House, a Georgian town house
