Institutional Investor, April 1996
Barings, the Soap Opera
by Susan Webber
Traders have finally attained true celebrity status. Nick Leeson, the
rogue trader who brought down venerable Barings, the U.K.'s oldest merchant
bank, now joins Jeffrey Dahmer and O.J. Simpson as the subject of quickie
books. "Total Risk", by Judith Rawnsley, who worked in Barings' research
department in Japan, and Leeson's own account, "Rogue Trader", examine
the firm's collapse and the role the now-infamous Leeson played in it.
An operations whiz, Leeson quickly established himself as a seemingly
skillful trader. Assumed to be pursuing low-risk arbitrage, he concealed
ever growing losses in a secret account, numbered 88888, and took massive
positions as the market turned against him. Leeson lost £827 million
($1.28 billion).
How do we judge books published mere months after the event? "Total
Risk" is certainly not up to snuff as an examination of the demise of
Barings. The obvious signs of haste uneven writing, excessive
attention to peripheral events, overlooked facts might be forgiven.
A more serious flaw is that this book does not come to grips with how
Leeson's transgression went undetected and what drove him to criminal
behavior.
Rawnsley obviously read the Bank of England's report on Barings' fall
and lifted (without attribution) many quotes from it. But it is also
clear that she did not distill its wealth of information into a well-reasoned
argument, choosing instead to advance at best partial explanations of
why the bank fell. She focuses, for example, on the turf battles that
erupted in Barings' Asian arm when the Japanese warrant market, its
main source of profits, evaporated. But in so doing she underplays the
failure of Christopher Heath, the unit's leader in the 1980s, to establish
institutional discipline.
Too often accepting what managers tell her, Rawnsley frequently sounds
Pollyannaish. She finds it ironic that Barings, owned by a charitable
trust, paid more of its revenues out in compensation than did any other
British merchant bank. But in fact, that's just what you'd expect when
the inmates run the asylum.
Rawnsley's account is irritatingly incomplete; Leeson's "Rogue Trader",
by contrast, is surprisingly likable. One can question author Leeson's
motives, but he certainly makes a persuasive, internally consistent
case.
Leeson recognized derivatives as a promising area while at Morgan Stanley
& Co., and then moved to Barings, where his expertise was badly
needed. He describes how he saved Barings £90 million by cleaning up
an operational nightmare in Jakarta and got his choice of postings as
a reward. As the general manager of Barings' Singapore International
Monetary Exchange operations, Leeson maintains that he set up account
88888 (a second customer error account) at London's request and initially
used it to hide the losses of his neophyte traders. Since he was reporting
profitable trades on ever increasing volumes, management applauded his
activities, even as outsiders could see that he was carrying insanely
large Nikkei 225 stock index positions.
Leeson and his ghostwriter play for maximum sympathy: They dwell on
his love for his wife, his support of his team and his despair in prison;
they even manage a wink at his drunken escapades. Yet the book also
gives an authentic feel for Leeson's increasing desperation as losses
spiraled out of control. Best of all is the description of how he coolly
deflected management's halfhearted questions with trading double-talk.
Yet he omits some key facts. Leeson contends that he was sent to Singapore
as general manager with a charter to build a trading team; other accounts
indicate that his responsibilities were unclear and that he exploited
a vacuum. He neglects to mention that after his Jakarta assignment,
he investigated a fraud similar to the one he himself perpetrated. Nor
does he own up to having deleted account 88888 from management reports
before he started trading.
The scenario I find plausible is that Leeson, seeing the opportunity
to satisfy a long-standing goal of becoming a trader and wanting to
assure his success, created account 88888 as his safety net. But he
got caught on a treadmill and couldn't get off.
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