United Kingdom Is a Butler to the World

"Butler to the World

By Oliver Bullough

St. Martin's, 278 pages, $28.99

Oliver Bullough is a British journalist whose stock in trade is murky money. Rich bad guys, often of the Russian kind, loathe him for his dogged reporting on the sources of their wealth. He's also been a guide on London Kleptocracy Tours, modeled on tours of Hollywood: Busloads of tourists drive around the British capital to gawk at houses that belong to oligarchs and others who've beggared the treasury in their native lands. Which lands? Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan and Nigeria, among others, in addition to Russia, of course, which has no equal in these matters.

Mr. Bullough, a lively and clever writer, has alighted on a lively and clever metaphor around which he builds "Butler to the World." His metaphor, alas, can't sustain the weight of a book and must be stretched and contorted to cover too much ground. It would have been more effective in an op-ed essay or a pamphlet. A more serious problem lies in Mr. Bullough's distinct antipathy to capitalism. He dislikes money-making and rich people, not just kleptocrats.

Postwar Britain, Mr. Bullough says, needed a "new business model" after being displaced by the United States as the world's superpower. If the U.S. became the world's policeman -- as it was once fashionable to say -- Britain became its butler, turning itself into "the geopolitical equivalent of Reginald Jeeves," the factotum to Bertie Wooster, an upper-class twit in the comic novels of P.G. Wodehouse. Butlers, writes Mr. Bullough, have all the traits of quintessential Britishness. These are "manners, resourcefulness, [and] reserve," which enable Britain to solve problems for its clients "discreetly and profitably."

Mr. Bullough's long subtitle -- "How Britain Helps the World's Worst People Launder Money, Commit Crimes, and Get Away With Anything" -- tells us what he thinks, his words unminced. The book is touted as a follow-up to "Moneyland" (2019), in which he portrayed a borderless world where the nihilist and unaccountable global rich can secure havens for their ill-gotten gains and even for their own persons. (Fancy a Maltese passport?)

In a speech in 1962, Dean Acheson, former U.S. secretary of state, observed harshly that Britain had lost an empire but had "not yet found a role." Acheson was mistaken, in Mr. Bullough's view. After the Suez debacle of 1956 -- when Egypt's strongman Gamal Nasser nationalized the canal and the U.S. refused to help the Brits take it back -- Britain, he says, did find a role. It became "an amoral servant of wealth wherever it could be found, using the skills it had built up over centuries of empire-building." In a word, "butlering."

As evidence of this amorality, Mr. Bullough points us to Britain's active promotion, after Suez, of the "Eurodollar," the term used to describe offshore dollar-denominated bonds or interbank deposits -- i.e., holdings unburdened by U.S. regulation. Showing his anti-capitalist hand, Mr. Bullough tells us that the Eurodollar "allowed Britain's merchant banks to free wealth from democratic controls."

Mr. Bullough, likewise, objects to the tax advantages conferred on companies and individuals by places like the British Virgin Islands -- a butlering outpost, as he sees it, in the balmy Caribbean. When you "cut past the legal terminology," he asks, what are the BVI selling? Essentially, "discreet and affordable asset protection services," guaranteed by the "solid presence of the British flag." That sounds conventional, does it not, for anyone in business? And yet, in Mr. Bullough's telling, "discreet and affordable asset protection" is presented to us as if it were a form of sex-trafficking in minors.

In a similar vein, Mr. Bullough objects on moral grounds to jurisdictions (like the BVI) that offer more favorable corporate tax rates than, say, the U.S. In his view, Britain's "offshore archipelago" offers easy tax avoidance to American companies that "love the US government's protection but not having to pay for it." But he glides over the fact that countries seek to tax income where it is earned -- few, if any, of these companies have substantive operations in the British Virgin Islands. He's indignant, also, that the Cayman Islands -- another British overseas territory -- are "now the world's leading domicile for hedge funds" -- gasp! -- whose money "flows seamlessly in and out with its owners' information jealously protected." Again, he doesn't tell us why this is a bad thing. Nor does he seem to know that it has been this way for 30 or more years. Alongside the Caymans, Mr. Bullough's wall of shame includes Jersey, Guernsey, Gibraltar, the Isle of Man and Anguilla, as well as "the United Kingdom itself."

Where Mr. Bullough's book has real value is in its accounts of some truly awful people -- the kleptocrats and oligarchs who should have been his sole focus. Riveting it is to read of Dmitry Firtash, "Putin's man in Ukraine" until 2014, who purchased a disused London Tube station for GBP 53 million from the British Ministry of Defense. A local entrepreneur had offered half that amount to turn the station into a party and convention center. But Firtash outbid him -- and left the station boarded up. It abutted his GBP 60 million mansion near Harrods, and he wanted to snuff out any disturbance before it began. (Although Firtash isn't on the list, the U.K. government has sanctioned 1,289 Russian individuals as of July 20, as a consequence of the war in Ukraine. Mr. Bullough, to be fair, completed his book before the war, but these asset freezes hardly constitute "butlering.")

Breathtaking, too, was the theft of GBP 1 billion from a bank in Moldova, money that ended up deposited in a Scottish Limited Partnership -- a type of company whose regulatory burdens are not entirely strenuous. SLPs are rarely used for giant heists in Eastern Europe. Most are quite kosher and offer a legitimate business niche. But Mr. Bullough would like to outlaw them.

"Butler to the World" is a book by a man who imagines money everywhere to be stashed (my pejorative verb, not his). And this money, inherently distasteful, evades taxes and works always secretly for some nefarious purpose. His is a Manichaean view of wealth, part Boy Scout, part Thomas Piketty.

Mr. Bullough writes that "a butler does not only work for criminals, remember, but for anyone rich enough to be able to employ his services." Wealthy people, "whether their wealth is dirty or clean," all seek the same things, he says: low taxes and "no transparency." Much too glibly, he conflates privacy -- the legitimate right of everyone engaged in business -- with opaqueness. Do some bad actors from the Russosphere (or indeed, from within our own societies) exploit Western rules of privacy? You bet. But the right response isn't to dilute -- or, worse, to anathematize -- privacy. It is for the authorities to be alert to crime. Yet Mr. Bullough melds the Clean Rich with the Dirty Rich, making them one consolidated cadre of avarice and turpitude. And in doing so, he concludes that the provision of any service to the rich -- whether by bankers or lawyers or, for that matter, butlers -- is just one big groveling disgrace.

---

Mr. Varadarajan, a Journal contributor, is a fellow at the American Enterprise Institute and at Columbia University's Center on Capitalism and Society." [1]

 Numa (Maxima's owner, formerly Numavičius), who has amassed billions of euros from selling alcohol to the poor of Lithuania and avoiding taxes, also uses the services of the UK.

1. REVIEW --- Books: By Jove, We'll Take Your Money
Varadarajan, Tunku. 
Wall Street Journal, Eastern edition; New York, N.Y. [New York, N.Y]. 23 July 2022: C.9.

Išsiaiškinkite, kurie projektai yra svarbiausi, ir atsisakykite biuro darbų, kurie jums nepadeda

 "Prisijunkite prie to komiteto. Suplanuokite pietus vasaros stažuotojams. O kol tuo užsiimsite, ar galite padėti tam vaikinui pasiruošti rinkodaros pranešimui kitos savaitės pristatymui? Jis, žinoma, pristatys.

 

    Klausimų choras visada buvo šalia, reikalaujantis mūsų laiko. Tačiau kai grįžtame į biurus, sunkiau pasislėpti nuo tokio "įtempto" darbo.

 

    Kolegos nekantrauja iškrauti administracines užduotis, kai jas perima mažėjantis vadovų padėjėjų skaičius.

 

    Viršininkai jaučia spaudimą įvykdyti savo viršininkų prašymus dėl dar vienos ataskaitos ar skaičiuoklės. Ir jūs esate tik tas asmuo, kuris tai daro.

 

    „Darbo tiek daug, kad niekas net nežiūri“, – sako Johnas Matthewsas, vadovaujantis nuosavai valdymo ir konsultavimo įmonei „Grey Cat Enterprises“ Rolyje, N.C.

 

    Kaip atpažinti, kurie prašymai yra vertingi, o kurie tėra smulkmena, kuri nejudina jūsų karjeros į priekį ir eikvoja laiką? O kaip pasakyti „ne“, nepakenkiant savo, kaip komandos žaidėjo, reputacijai? Ypač tada, kai jums patinka būti žinomam, kaip žmogui, kuris visa tai daro – ir baiminatės, kad jūsų viršininkas nebus laimingas, jei to nepadarysite.

 

    Ponas Matthewsas, dirbantis mažmeninės prekybos ir finansinių paslaugų įmonių laikinuoju vadovu, pirmiausia klausia savo komandų, kas jų darbuose yra „dubliuojamo, perteklinio, kvailo“.

 

    „Atsikratykime“, – sako jis.

 

    Nesikreipkite į savo viršininką ir nesakykite: „Nekenčiu to daryti“, – įspėja ponas Matthewsas. Vietoj to paaiškinkite, kad galvojate apie geresnius būdus, kaip tvarkyti šias TPS ataskaitas. Tada išdėstykite keletą variantų – priežastis, kodėl tai turėtų daryti kita komanda arba kodėl jos tiesiog visiškai nereikalingos.

 

    Kai Ravi Ramanas, vykdomasis treneris Mineapolyje, dirba su perdegusiais klientais, jis dažnai pastebi, kad jie įstrigo daugybėje darbų, kuriems jie nebuvo pasamdyti. Paaiškėjo, kad viena technologijų įmonės produktų valdymo vadovė suprato, kad daugiau nei 20 % savo laiko skiria mokymams apie įvairovę ir pokalbiams su kandidatais į kitas komandas – svarbiems darbams, bet ne tam, į ką jos viršininkai norėjo, kad ji sutelktų dėmesį. Praėjusį vasarį, kai ji buvo pakeliui į paaukštinimą, jai buvo pasakyta, kad ji neatliko pakankamai didelio strateginio darbo, kad jį uždirbtų, sako ponas Ramanas.

 

    Nustatydamas pagalbinių projektų dydį, jis pataria: „Paklauskite savęs: jei aš tai padaryčiau, kam tai rūpėtų?

 

    Ne todėl, kad šie sprendimai yra lengvi. Remiantis Pitsburgo universiteto ekonomistės Lise Vesterlund ir jos bendraautorių atliktu tyrimu, moterų 44 % dažniau nei vyrų prašoma dirbti „nepaaukštintį darbą“ ir 50 % labiau tikėtina, kad jos atsakys "taip".  Treneriai man pasakė, kad prašymai spalvotiems darbuotojams padėti ištaisyti įmonių įvairovę ir nuosavo kapitalo trūkumus, dažnai be papildomos kompensacijos, išaugo po nacionalinio pokalbio apie Floid ​​2020 m.

 

    Kai kurios papildomos užduotys, pavyzdžiui, jaunesnių kolegų kuravimas, gali būti labai prasmingos ir svarbios, net jei jos nepadidina jūsų atlyginimo ar premijos arba iš karto nepaveikia įmonės pelno. O pasakyti „ne“ gali būti rizikinga. Niekada nepadėkite ir greičiausiai būsite atleisti iš darbo iš to, ką matė daktaras Vesterlundas.

 

    Vietoj to, nustatykite kai kurias taisykles. Planuodami šį sugrįžimo į biurą renginį sugaišite tik valandą; per mėnesį neparašysite daugiau, nei trijų rekomendacinių laiškų. Ji pataria, kad bet kokie prašymai, dėl kurių jūs viršytų šią kvotą, iškart bus atmesti. Paruoškite atsakymą iš anksto: Jūs negalite to padaryti, atsiprašau, bet čia yra idėja, kas gali padėti.

 

    Kita riba, kurią reikia nustatyti: jei gaunate užklausą, kuri siunčiama daugiau, nei 10 žmonių, palaukite. Pažiūrėkite, ar kas nors kitas pirmas pakelia ranką, sako daktaras Vesterlundas. Jei to nepadarys, pasiūlykite komandai sudaryti besikeičiantį tvarkaraštį, kad visi imtųsi iš eilės.

 

    Kai Shalini Stewart neseniai buvo paprašyta dirbti su dideliu nauju projektu programinės įrangos įmonėje, pirmoji jos mintis buvo: „Žmogui tai per daug valandų“. Tada jos viršininkas liepė jai pažvelgti į savo kalendorių ir pradėti perbraukti dalykus.

 

    „Jaučiuosi taip, lyg sužinojau šią paslaptį“, – sako ponia Stewart, gyvenanti Aleksandrijoje, Va. Tas 90 minučių trukmės susitikimas, kuriame ji galėtų kalbėti penkias minutes? Lengvai išardomas. Tas savaitinis vienas prieš vieną? Taip pat gerai veiktų kartą per ketvirtį.

 

    Galų gale, tiek daug mūsų darbų laikui bėgant gali nuslysti į įmonės veiklą – kasdienybę, kurios laikomės, nes jos labai nusidėvėjusios. Kai ateis didelė galimybė, galvokite apie tai kaip priminimą apie tai, kas verta jūsų laiko, o ne apie dar vieną užduotį, kuri gali sugriauti jūsų užimtą tvarkaraštį.

 

    „Po velnių, man tikrai nereikia daryti daug tų dalykų, kuriuos darau“, – suprato ponia Stewart.

 

    Taip pat galite pabandyti derėtis, sako Deepa Purushothaman, buvusi „Deloitte“ vadovaujanti partnerė ir „nFormation“ – internetinės profesionalių spalvotų moterų bendruomenės – įkūrėja. Taip, dabar galite dirbti šioje komisijoje, bet kitais metais norėtumėte slyvos vaidmens kompensavimo komitete. Arba atstumkite, gaudami daugiau informacijos.

 

    "Ar tai bus peržiūrėta mano metų pabaigos apžvalgoje? Kaip mes tai įvertinsime?" M. Purushothaman siūlo paklausti.

 

    Ne tik biurų gyventojai turi nerimauti, kaip iššifruoti, kas svarbu, o kas ne. Daugelį metų komikas Sammy Obeid dirbo nemokamą darbą, tikėdamasis gauti apmokamą koncertą. Buvo džiugu, kad pagaliau pasiekė savo karjeros tašką, kai galėjo atmesti kai kuriuos pasiūlymus.

 

    Bet irgi buvo sunku. Jis grumdavosi dėl sprendimų, negalėdamas užmigti. Kartais jis pasirinkdavo neteisingai; kažkada jis atsisakė galimybės rašyti komikui, kuris galiausiai sulaukė didžiulio susidomėjimo, ir pasakė „ne“ vaikinui, ieškančiam skedo partnerio.

 

    "Užuot puolęs į progą, aš atsisakiau. Šie komikai dabar yra žinomi", - sako ponas Obeidas, laiką skirstantis tarp Los Andželo ir įlankos. "Kas žino. Jie galėjo įtraukti mane į savo pasirodymus", - sako jis.

 

    Kai kurie žmonės tiesiog negali paleisti skurdaus darbo. Johnas Frehse'as, vadovaujantis pasaulinei konsultacinės įmonės „Ankura“ darbo strategijos praktikai, per metus atlieka apie 130 skrydžių, kalbėdamas ir konsultuodamas bendroves visame pasaulyje tokiais klausimais, kaip tiekimo grandinės klausimai ir vakcinų gamybos medžiagos. Jis turi padėjėją, pasiruošusį atlikti administracines užduotis. Tačiau jis primygtinai reikalauja pats rengti savo išlaidų ataskaitas, o tai yra menka užduotis, kuri atima net tris valandas per savaitę.

 

    Jam patinka kontroliuoti smulkmenas ir jausmai, kuriuos patiria spustelėjus „Pateikti“. Pagaliau kažkas, ką galima visiškai užbaigti, išbraukti iš sąrašo, neabejotina sėkmė.

 

    „Uždedi lanką ir jis išnyksta“, – sako jis. „Mums visiems reikia mažų laimėjimų kiekvieną dieną“ [1]

1. Work & Life: Just Say No to Busywork --- Figure out which projects matter most and ditch office chores that don't help you get ahead
Feintzeig, Rachel. 
Wall Street Journal, Eastern edition; New York, N.Y. [New York, N.Y]. 25 July 2022: A.11.

Figure out which projects matter most and ditch office chores that don't help you get ahead

"Join that committee. Plan a lunch for the summer interns. And while you're at it, can you help that guy in marketing prep for next week's presentation? He'll be delivering it, of course.

The chorus of asks has always been there, demanding our time. But as we head back to offices, it's harder to hide from the busywork.

Colleagues are eager to unload administrative tasks once absorbed by a shrinking population of executive assistants.

Bosses feel pressure to check off requests from their superiors for yet another report or spreadsheet. And you're just the person to do it.

"There is so much work that is being done that no one even looks at," says John Matthews, who runs his own management-consulting firm, Gray Cat Enterprises, in Raleigh, N.C.

How do you identify which requests are valuable, and which are mere scutwork that doesn't move your career forward and gobbles up time? And how do you say no without killing your reputation as a team player? Especially when you like being known as the person who does it all -- and fear your boss won't be happy if you don't.

Mr. Matthews, who serves as an interim executive for businesses in retail and financial services, starts by asking his teams what's "duplicative, redundant, stupid" about their jobs.

"Let's get rid of it," he says.

Don't approach your boss and say, "I hate doing this," Mr. Matthews cautions. Instead, explain you've been thinking about better ways to deal with those TPS reports. Then lay out some options -- reasons why another team should do them instead, or why they're just totally unnecessary.

When Ravi Raman, an executive coach in Minneapolis, works with clients who are burned out, he often finds they're stuck in a torrent of work that's not what they were hired to do. One product-management leader at a tech company realized she was spending more than 20% of her time on diversity training and interviewing candidates for other teams -- important jobs, but not what her bosses wanted her to focus on, it turned out. Once on track for a promotion this past February, she was told she hadn't done enough big, strategic work to earn it, Mr. Raman says.

When sizing up ancillary projects, he advises: "Ask yourself: If I did this, who would care?"

Not that these decisions are easy. Women are asked 44% more often than men to do "nonpromotable work," and they're 50% more likely to say yes, according to a study from Lise Vesterlund, an economist at the University of Pittsburgh, and her co-authors of a book about avoiding dead-end work. Requests for employees of color to help fix companies' diversity and equity failings, often without additional compensation, skyrocketed after a national conversation on race in 2020, coaches told me.

Some extra tasks -- mentoring younger colleagues, for example -- can be deeply meaningful and important, even if they don't inflate your salary or bonus, or immediately affect the company's bottom line. And saying no can be risky. Help out never, and you'll likely get fired, from what Dr. Vesterlund has seen.

Instead, put some rules into place. You'll spend only an hour planning this return-to-office event; you won't write more than three letters of recommendation a month. Any requests that would push you over that quota get an immediate no, she advises. Prepare the response in advance: You can't do it, you're sorry, but here's an idea for someone who can help.

Another boundary to set: If you receive a request that goes to more than 10 people, wait. See if someone else raises their hand first, Dr. Vesterlund says. Failing that, suggest the team establish a rotating schedule, so everyone takes a turn.

When Shalini Stewart was recently asked to work on a big new project in her job at a software company, her first thought was, "It's too many hours for a human." Then her boss told her to take a look at her calendar, and start crossing off stuff.

"I feel like I learned this secret," says Ms. Stewart, who lives in Alexandria, Va. That 90-minute meeting where she might speak for five minutes? Easily scrapped. That weekly one-on-one? It would work just as well once a quarter.

After all, so much of our work can slip into corporate performance over time, routines we keep following because they're so well-worn. When a big opportunity arrives, think of it as a reminder of what's worth your time, not another task threatening to implode your busy schedule.

"Damn, I really don't need to be doing a lot of these things that I'm doing," Ms. Stewart realized.

You can also try negotiating, says Deepa Purushothaman, a former managing partner at Deloitte and co-founder of nFormation, an online community for professional women of color. Yes, you can serve on this panel now, but next year you'd like a plum role on the compensation committee. Or push back by getting more information.

"Will it be reviewed in my year-end review? How are we going to measure it?" Ms. Purushothaman suggests asking.

It's not just cubicle-dwellers who have to worry about deciphering what matters and what doesn't. For years, comedian Sammy Obeid did all kinds of free work in hopes of getting a paid gig down the line. It was thrilling to finally reach the point in his career where he could turn down some offers.

But it was hard, too. He'd wrestle over decisions, unable to sleep. Sometimes, he'd make the wrong call; he once turned down the chance to write for a comedian who ended up striking it big, and said no to a guy looking for a sketch partner.

"Instead of jumping to the occasion, I declined. These comics are famous now," says Mr. Obeid, who splits his time between Los Angeles and the Bay Area. "Who knows. They could have put me in their shows," he says.

Some people just can't let the scutwork go. John Frehse, who runs the global labor-strategy practice for consulting firm Ankura,takes about 130 flights a year, speaking and advising companies around the world about things like supply-chain issues and vaccine-manufacturing materials. He has an assistant ready to help with administrative tasks. Yet, he insists on doing his own expense reports, a menial task that chews up as many as three hours a week.

He loves having control over the minute details and the feeling he gets when he clicks "Submit." Finally, something that can be totally completed, checked off the list, an unmitigated success.

"You put a bow around it and it goes away," he says. "We all need small wins every day."" [1]

1. Work & Life: Just Say No to Busywork --- Figure out which projects matter most and ditch office chores that don't help you get ahead
Feintzeig, Rachel. 
Wall Street Journal, Eastern edition; New York, N.Y. [New York, N.Y]. 25 July 2022: A.11.