Passing Bull 214 – Economics and Voodoo

 

How Markets Fail by John Cassidy (2009) is as instructive as it is readable.  On reading it again, I was struck by how evangelical many leading economists are.  They assemble in platoons preaching ideology masquerading as science.  One economist said of Hayek: ‘This kind of writing is not scholarship.  It is seeing hobgoblins under every bed.’  Friedman was the ultimate evangelist.  He could rewrite history to suit his program – he taught that the depression was not caused by market failure but by government failure. 

In 2003, one of Friedman’s successors said that macroeconomics had succeeded in solving the central problem of depression-prevention.  He reminded me of the heart surgeon who said of my chest pain that whatever its cause, it would not kill me.  Six months later, it bloody nearly did just that – because I had delayed in reporting to casualty for hours relying on his advice.  It was, as his Grace the Duke of Wellington observed, a damned close run thing.  So was the Great Financial Crisis – another painful case of a pretty syllogism broken by a sad fact.

It is not as if no one saw the GFC coming.  Mr Cassidy reminds us that in 2003, Warren Buffett told his shareholders that ‘In our view…derivatives are financial weapons of mass destruction that, while now latent, are potentially lethal.’  But there you go – the Harvard Business School had knocked back Warren Buffett.  Not the right kind of academic aura – like that of Mr Greenspan.

You can therefore imagine my relief when I read:

The economics department of Morgan Stanley…was refusing to hire any economics Ph D’s unless they had experience outside academe.  ‘We insist on at least a three-to-four year cleansing experience to neutralise the brain washing that takes place’…..’Academic  economics has taken a very bad turn in the road’….’It’s very academic, very mathematical, and it really doesn’t – I want to choose my words carefully here: it is nothing like as useful to the business community as it could be.’

Political parties and think tanks should take note.

When Mr Cassidy goes from ‘utopian’ economics to ‘reality based’ economics, we get:

….the essence of utopian economics is that the free market, by generating a set of prices at which firms and consumers equate private costs and private benefits, produces an efficient outcome.  But from the point of view of society, what is needed is a balancing of social costs and social benefits.  Free markets don’t lead to such a balancing….The market fails, and fails in a very specific and predictable sense.

This is not hard to get.  Dealing in cigarettes or alcohol has social costs – that might be met from taxation.  The same goes for dealing in carbon.  The simple thing to do to meet the social cost would be to impose a tax.

But you can’t do that if tax is an ideological blind spot. And if you subscribe to the ultimate dream of utopia – that money grows on trees.  It’s a bit like asking a keen footy fan to explain a Grand Final that his team just narrowly lost.  After the first few words, you can sit back and hear the needle in the groove as the record revolves fixatedly on its own axis until its predetermined end.

Bloopers

In a blunt message to corporate leaders, the Prime Minister told The Australian the government wanted them to step up and focus on discussions that led to better outcomes for workers and their families.  ‘If you want to advance the cause of your employees so they can earn more, there isn’t time for distractions…The most successful businesses are those that focus on that.’

The Australian, 13 September, 2019

This is hilarious beyond belief.  The Minister for Thongs knows nothing at all about business – absolutely nothing – but he feels free to tell business how to run itself – while saying that business has no place in talking about politics – which business has been driven to do because the politicians are so inept.  And this is from a political party that once had aspirations to being ‘conservative,’ but which is now introducing legislation to enable government to intervene at will in what used to be a free market.  Do those galahs really believe that we came down in the last shower?

MY TOP SHELF – 36 – Kim

 

[These are serialised extracts of all the fifty books referred to in a book published in 2015 called ‘The Top Shelf, or What Used to be Called a Liberal Education’.  The extracts are as originally published, and they come in the same order.]

36

Kim

Rudyard Kipling (1900)

Easton Press, Collector’s library of Famous Editions, 1962; illustrations by Robin Jacques; introduction by C E Carrington; fully bound in blue leather; embossed in gold with Indian motifs and title; humped spine; gold edged paper; pearl moiré endpapers and ribbon.

He sat, in defiance of municipal orders, astride the gun Zan-Zammah on her brick platform opposite the old Ajaib-Gher – the Wonder House, as the natives called the Lahore Museum.

To paraphrase the start of Billy Budd, if you walk down the boulevards of Copacabana in Rio de Janeiro, you will marvel at the range of skin colours and tones on display among what must be the most racially interwoven people on earth.  You do not get the same effect walking down a boulevard in Mumbai, but if you spend any time in India you will see that it has the greatest mixture of faiths and creeds and peoples and tribes and classes and castes on earth.  There are now many more Muslims in India than in Pakistan, but although there was mayhem at the partition of the two countries, these teeming millions more or less manage to get by most of the time without cutting each other’s throats.  India has its share of religious freaks and fanatics but, with England, it is entitled to be regarded as one of the most tolerant nations on earth.  The conjunction of England and India is not accidental – and Rudyard Kipling’s novel, Kim, is testament to the tolerance of both.

The notion of empire is very much on the nose, and Kipling was an Englishman, writing about India when it was the subject of an English Queen Empress – the Raj – and Kipling was seen as the great apologist for the Empire.  The novel Kim will therefore look not just out of date, but out of taste.  But an uncommitted reader coming for the first time to Kim – which was said to be the favourite novel of the first Prime Minister of India, Pandit Nehru, and which Nirad Chaudhuri said was the very best picture of India written by an English author – will see that it could only have been written by someone who had two qualities: the capacity to deliver engrossing narrative; and a complete affection for and knowledge of the various peoples of India.  And, you might add, the capacity to take relaxed pot-shots from time to time at the affectations of the British in India.

And if Kipling had views that no longer commend themselves to us, so what?  Mozart had an appalling lavatory humour; Beethoven was rude and difficult to deal with; and Wagner was a rolled-gold, five-star jerk.  Do these disabilities stop us listening to their music?  Why let political prissiness stand between you and a good read?  But if you would rather read about India by an Indian, read The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga.  It is badly written and venomous toward India, but it won the Man Booker Prize, and is prescribed reading by Cambridge University for those who are literarily challenged and who can only take their literature tossed with ideology.  Mr Adiga could be India’s answer to Quentin Tarantino – the taste quotients appear to be identical, and the outcome in each case is both shocking and inane.

The second misconception of Kim is that it is a children’s story.  Its hero is a boy who has qualities and experiences that most boys would die to have.  But those experiences are divided equally between two worlds – the spiritual world, and the world of espionage.  Kim becomes the disciple of a Lama, a holy man.  He also becomes involved in the Great Game in what we now call Pakistan and Afghanistan.  (We are still playing games up there, but we are not doing so well.)  The espionage side of the tale is terrific for children – but the nature of the bond between the Lama and his disciple (chela) may be above the level of most children, at least most white children, and will be the more engrossing of the two tales for boys and girls who have well and truly grown up.

The novel starts like the Iliad and Paradise Lostin medias res (in the middle of the action) with lines quoted in the novel (and film) The English Patient set out at the head of this note.  When Kim gets a ticket for the train – ‘the work of the devils’ or ‘the fire carriages’ – he returns with the money ‘keeping only one anna in each rupee of the price of the Umballa ticket as his commission – the immemorial commission of Asia’.

The Lama is in search of the river where the arrow of the Lord Buddha came to earth.  Kim is in search of a Red Bull on a green field – the emblem of the Mavericks, the Regiment of his father.  When Kim is taken in by the Mavericks and a priest, the priest ‘looked at him with the triple-ringed uninterest of the creed that lumps nine-tenths of the world under the title of ‘heathen’.’

Kim is introduced to the Great Game by Mahbub Ali and by Creighton Sahib:

The dealers call him the father of fools, because he is so easily cheated about a horse.  Mahbub Ali says he is madder than all other Sahibs.

Kim survives the orphanage and the school of St. Xavier’s in Partibus, and then he goes up to Simla to be educated in espionage by Lurgan Sahib.  While the Sahibs are trying to reclaim Kim as one of their own and use him for their purposes, Kim longs to return to the Lama as his chela.  The two stories merge when Kim and his Lama end up tracking Russians near the Khyber Pass.

The Lama has a confrontation with Mahbub Ali and asks Mahbub why he does not follow the way himself and take Kim as his chela.

Mahbub stared stupefied at the magnificent insolence of the demand, which across the Border he would have paid with more than a blow.  Then the humour of it touched his worldly soul.

In the end, the Lama gains Knowledge and release.  He has a view of the River of the Arrow at his feet.  The book ends with these lines:

So thus the Search is ended.  For the merit that I have acquired, the River of the Arrow is here.  It broke forth at our feet, as I have said.  I have found it.  Son of my Soul, I have wrenched my Soul back from the threshold of Freedom to free thee from all sin – as I am free, and sinless.  Just is the Wheel!  Certain is our deliverance.  Come!

He crossed his hands on his lap and smiled, as any man who has won Salvation for himself and his beloved.

In the 1950s MGM film, Errol Flynn played Mahbub Ali.  But the story of the Lama is played with surprising effect and taste with Paul Lucas in that role.  In the 1984 film production, the Lama is wonderfully played by Peter O’Toole, in a manner that we would see him use as Priam in that awful film called Troy.

It is hard to imagine a story better calculated to hold the interest of boys and girls of all ages.  Children may be captivated by the Great Game – especially those scenes where Lurgan Sahib is teaching the young apprentice the mind games that will become his stock in trade – but the older readers and audiences will have at least as much time for the story of the Lama and his chela.  The two stories touch when the Holy Man tells Kim:

I have known many men in my long life, and disciples not a few.  But to none among men, if so be thou art woman born, has my heart gone out as it has to thee – thoughtful, wise and courteous, but something of a small imp.

The love between an old man and a much younger one has been much touched on, at least since the Dialogues of Plato.  Although Kim was strikingly good looking and attractive to women, and doubtless some men, there is no possibility of a sexual undertone here.  This is the love between two males – one supremely and disconcertingly unworldly, and the other entirely and thrillingly worldly.  It is not like Prospero and Aerial (or Caliban), but it is not silly to compare the relationship to that between Don Quixote and Sancho Panza.  (In his book on Kipling, Angus Wilson thought that Kipling may also have recalled Pickwick and Sam Weller, and Fagin and the Dodger.)  Sancho is as worldly as Kim, but in a more earthy, folksy and matter of fact way.  While the Lama’s unworldliness derives from his holiness, the Don’s derives from his madness.  But in the result, the dialogues between both pairs are illuminated by a harmony that has endured and enthralled all kinds of readers.

The Lama is far from being mad or idiotic – he has no trouble in rustling up the money to pay St. Xavier’s.  But when the Lama in his simplicity thinks that a hooker is a nun, we are reminded of the time when the town wenches burst out laughing when the Don referred to them as virgins, and the affronted Don said:

Give me leave to tell ye, ladies, that modesty and civility are very becoming to the fair sex; whereas laughter without ground is the highest degree of indiscretion.  However, I do not presume to say this to offend you, or incur your displeasure; no, ladies, I assure you that I have no other design but to do you service. 

While Sancho forever ruminates on his master’s madness, Kim is forever astounded at his master’s holiness.  In each case, the chemistry comes about from the mixing of the elements.

The aim of art is to offer a lyrical reflection on the human condition.  Very few novels have achieved that aim like the novels Don Quixote and Kim.  Both have that quality that is so rare.  It is the quality that children feel for a book they have loved.  They are sorry when they come to the end of the book because when they put the book down, they will have to leave a world that has given them so much and which looks to them so much more lively than their own.

Passing Bull 213 –Labels again

 

‘Virtue signalling’ is in vogue in some quarters as a label used as a term of abuse.  The other day, someone asked a sensible question.  What is wrong with virtue signalling?  Big corporates spend a fortune on it.  So do governments – although different considerations apply to different ways of spending public moneys.

Reading Richard Evans’ The Pursuit of Power, Europe 1815 – 1914, I came across some diverting labels.  In 1900, a German gynaecologist said: ‘The use of contraceptives of any sort can only serve lust.’  Given that the survival of the species depends on procreation, what’s wrong with a spot of lust – if you are still up for it?  The notion that sin is inherent in the word lust does not get much encouragement from the Oxford English Dictionary.

A Mayor of Vienna, who happened to hate Jews, was upbraided for sitting at a table with some Jews.  His answer was very simple. ‘I decide who’s a Jew.’

The word Prussian carries a connotation of militant if not military Teutonic discipline and froideur – all ghastly stereotypes.  And Bismarck was the prototype Prussian.  You might therefore be surprised to learn that Bismarck has a good claim to be called the father of the Welfare State.  The Iron Chancellor got in about a generation before Churchill and Lloyd George when he said that ‘the state had to meet the justified wishes of the working classes.’  He dubbed his aristocratic paternalism as ‘state socialism.’  That would be enough to send current Republicans clean out of their minds.’

But the prize for quote of the book goes to a Russian ethnographer who in 1836 said:

According to the observations of old timers, the climate of Kharkov province has become more severe, and it is now exposed to more droughts and frosts.  It is likely that this change has come about because of the destruction of forests.

Yes, that’s right – man made climate change was old hat in Russia in 1836.

Blooper – a good book

The book Finding my place by Anne Aly is a must.  She was two when her parents migrated here from Egypt.  She and they met the full face of bigotry about colour and Islam in Australia.  They were getting over this when Osama knocked over the twin towers and this was followed by the Bali bombing.  Reading this book, you get a clear idea of the damage done by people like Andrew Bolt and Alan Jones – and, I would add, John Howard.

Anne’s parents thought it would be easier for her, but that is problematic.  She went through two failed marriages.  On top of her primary degree at the American University of Cairo, she has a diploma, a master’s and a doctorate of philosophy.  Tickets don’t worry me too much, but she got the last two while raising two sons as a single mother.  That is on any view impressive.

She has a world-wide reputation for her expertise in counter-terrorism.  And she has put her training into effect.  One young Muslim who was being groomed told her third husband that but for Anne he would be dead or in jail.

The book is by turns heart-breaking and hilarious.  It is worth the price of purchase just for the spray she gave a shabby dealer who sought to renege on a sale of fencing and passed a  rude remark about Arabs.  Anne Aly does know my language.  And yes, she does sink the slipper into two politicians who – to my certain knowledge – asked for it.

I will only refer to two quotes.  This on being a Muslim in Australia after the twin towers.

There is something disempowering about hate.  If someone hates you for who you are, there really isn’t anything you can do about it.

This on being a federal MP.

I’ve never liked politics and I doubt that I ever will. I don’t rate my performance in media interviews where I’m pitted against a seasoned politician who barks out attacks and expects me to do the same, and my greatest fear is that I will become that person.

Anne Aly is the kind of person who will get right up the noses of the IPA and their ilk.  She is a Muslim woman who breaks all the templates and has made more of her life than they ever will.  This is her triumph, and I found it entirely uplifting.  I will give a copy to my oldest grand-daughter.  The language can be fruity, but the humanity of this woman is a winner for us all.

Here and there – Hitler compared

 

University examiners loved stating exam questions ‘Compare and contrast….’  At the Alfred for a drug hit – immunotherapy – I was rereading Sebastian Haffner The Meaning of Hitler.  I remarked to the nurses – one of them is from Munich – that a lot of it seemed relevant – often alarmingly so – to a contemporary populist disaster.  Sometimes the contrast was more illuminating than the compare.  See what you think.

Hitler had no friends.  He enjoyed sitting for hours on end with subordinate staff – drivers, bodyguards, secretaries  – but he alone did all the talking.

There is no development, no maturing in Hitler’s character and personality.  His character was fixed at an early age – perhaps a better word would be arrested – and remains astonishingly consistent; nothing was added to it.  It was not an attractive character……from the very start [there] was a total lack of capacity for self-criticism.  Hitler was all his life exceedingly full of himself and from his earliest to his last days tended to self-conceit. Stalin and Mao used the cult of their personality coolly as a political instrument, without letting it turn their heads.  With the Hitler cult, Hitler was not only its object but also the earliest, most persistent and most passionate devotee.

That’s a 10 in the ‘Compare’ column.

When in the twenties, Hitler had at his disposal nothing but his demagogy, his hypnotic oratory, his intoxicating and illusionist skills as a producer of mass spectacles, he hardly ever gained more than five per cent of all Germans as his followers….The next forty per cent were driven into his arms of 1930-3 and the total helpless failure of all other governments and parties in the face of that plight.  The remaining decisive fifty per cent, however, he gained after 1933 mainly through his achievements.

This is a 10 on ‘Contrast.’  Hitler had a real achievements – economic, military and foreign miracles – six million unemployed to full employment in three years.  Before that: ‘The man does not really exist – he is only the noise he makes.’  After that:

‘Those who are only vigorous destroyers are not great at all,’ says Jacob Burkhardt, and Hitler certainly proved himself a generous wrecker.  But beyond any doubt he also proved himself a star achiever of high calibre, and not only in wrecking.

Still very heavy ‘Contrast’.

And he perceived correctly that absolute rule was not possible in an intact state organism but only amidst controlled chaos…A close study of him reveals a trait in him that one might describe as a horror of committing himself, or perhaps even better, as a horror of anything final.  It seems as though something in in him caused him to recoil not only from setting limits to his power by way of a state system, but also to his will by way of a firm set of goals.

This may be the most frankly vicious insight of the lot.

The point is that Hitler’s successes were never scored against a strong or even a tough opponent: even the Weimar republic of the late twenties and Britain in 1940 proved too strong for him.

Spot on again for ‘Compare.’

Of course he was no democrat, but he was a populist, a man who based his power on the masses, not on the elite, and in a sense a people’s tribune risen to absolute power.  His principal means of rule was demagogy, and his instrument of government was not a structural hierarchy but a chaotic bundle of uncoordinated mass organisations merely held together at the top by his own person.  All these are ‘leftist’ rather than ‘rightest’ features…..  Clearly in the line of twentieth-century dictators Hitler stands somewhere between Mussolini and Stalin, and upon close examination nearer to Stalin than to Mussolini.  Nothing is more misleading than to call Hitler a fascist. Fascism is upper class rule, buttressed by artificially manufactured mass enthusiasm.  Certainly Hitler roused masses to enthusiasm, but never in order to buttress an upper class.  He was not a class politician and his National Socialism was anything but fascism.  (Emphasis added.)

Well that should give you something to chew on –and frighten the hell out of you.

For there is no denying the voluntarist trait in Hitler’s view of the world: he saw the world as he wanted to see it. That the world is imperfect, full of conflict, hardship and suffering…… This is only too true, and it is quite right not to shut one’s eyes to it.  So long as he says no more than that, Hitler stands firmly on the ground of truth.  Except that he does not state these things with the sad, courageous earnestness with which Luther calmly faced what he called original sin but with that frenzied voice with which Nietzsche, for instance, so often hailed what was deplorable.  To Hitler, the emergency was the norm, the state was there in order to wage war.

Compare and contrast – indeed.

Here and there – What kind of liar is Donald Trump?

 

In a piece for The New York Times headed ‘Why Does Manafort Lie?’, an American philosopher referred to the remark of Aristotle that some people lie because they boast, and some people lie to flatter others.  Manafort – the man with $15000 ostrich jacket – looks to be a prime example of both.  The philosopher began his piece:

Maybe Paul Manafort simply has more chutzpah than the rest of us. Here’s a man convicted of financial fraud, facing further criminal prosecution for the lies he’s accused of telling, who makes a deal to protect himself and proceeds, according to a memo sent to a federal judge on Friday, to lie to the prosecutors. Accused of lying, he offers as evidence in his defence … what appear to be more lies. There are no good reasons to believe him, and yet he seems to brashly lie nevertheless.

Another liar, Cohen, looks like a beaten man – not repentant, but beaten.  Manafort looks determined to remain pleased with himself.  There is every chance that his lying is so compulsive – so much part of his everyday life – that he no longer knows or cares if he is lying.  By contrast, Cohen looks like a common garden crook who had the misfortune to get caught.  Cohen does not look remorseful either – he just looks bloody guilty.

Donald Trump is a compulsive liar who does not follow either pattern.  But if you had to choose, you would say he is far closer to Manafort than Cohen.  Among other things, Trump is incapable of anything like remorse, much less apologising.  The only time I have ever seen Trump look like he might be conscious of the fact that he was lying was when he was asked if he accepted the explanation of the Saudis for the murder of Kashoggi.  He said that he was, but this was too preposterous even for Trump, and his response lacked all conviction.  Both have since conformed to type.  The Saudis have given about five contradictory explanations – about as many as Trump gave for sacking Comey – and Trump has confessed that the dollar trumps decency.

There are two reasons why people commonly lie.  One is that they want to improve on the truth.  These are the boasters.  They quickly get known.  You choose your own factor for their golf handicap or their income.  They just can’t help themselves.

Another reason for lying is that the truth might hurt.  Did you buy that second property so that the children could learn about life on the farm, or in order to profit from its subdivision?  If you have lied about that, you must hope that your bank manager’s diary notes do not show a more mercenary mindset.

There is another occasion for lying – what is called, dangerously, a white lie.  Sometimes we might have to choose between doing something wrong and causing someone pain.  ‘Well, Son, are you looking forward to meeting my second husband – indeed, your new father – again at Christmas?’  Well, if it’s a choice between hurting your mum, and putting a mild blot on your escutcheon of honour, most of us would stay with mum – because we prefer real life to abstract value or theory.  Goodness, just look at how all hell broke loose when Cordelia could not bring herself to butter up to her cranky old dad, King Lear.  But, in discussing the mendacity of Donald Trump, there is no such out on those lines.

In short, Trump lies because he can.  People who get more power than they can decently handle commonly feel the need to stretch that power beyond its limits.  That is Donald Trump all over, the spoiled child who never grew up or got beyond breaking his best toys.  He has no friends.  He is very dangerous to be near.  You could never turn your back on him.  And when the end comes, it will be sudden and final.  And on one charge alone, he would looking at a minimum of three years in a late bid by the nation to introduce him to the concept of humanity.

Passing Bull 212 –For or against?

 

After I had criticised a comment on where we have gone wrong as being too generalised, I was asked to express my view.  I did so as follows.

It is hard to avoid generalisation, but my sense – for what it is worth – is that the wounds inflicted on the less prosperous part of the middle class by the GFC, globalisation and technology have left them in a very disaffected condition.  They have a big grievance about inequality – which is justified on both capital and income – and an equally justified sense of insecurity. There is a loss of faith in our pillars, and sustaining conventions go west. This drives them back on to what they see as their fundamentals – their nationality or even their race – and, as in Italy and Germany in the 1920’s, this leaves them sitting ducks for populists and their conspiracy theories and scapegoats.  These people in turn fan the flames and increase division.  The inescapable word is ‘polarisation.’  It still has some way to go in the US and UK, but it is not far from the surface in the rest of Europe.  We have so far mostly avoided it – because we avoid politics.  You can forget the rest of the world.

I would be sympathetic to the suggestion that the decline of religion is a major factor but for three things.  The notion that you need God to be moral was blown up more two hundred years ago.  The behaviour of some people claiming to have God – like evangelical supporters of Trump or Catholic defenders of Pell – is genuinely revolting.  And a lot of the worst wars came out of religious schism.

They are what I see as the background to the moral catastrophe of people like Trump and Johnson.  I have the firm but utterly unverifiable notion that a big part of the problem is that for many Americans, Trump is God’s answer to their putting a nigger into the White House.  And I don’t think that too many supporters of Johnson are much better: Farage is shameless.

What we have at least now established is that when assessing a political leader it is fatuous to suggest you can ignore their moral character.

I would add two things.  The populism embraced by people like Trump and Johnson is said to come from parties that were conservative.  As I have said before, a populist is not a conservative.  And these two were born with silver spoons in their mouths.  They could not care less about the less privileged people they appeal to.  Indeed, if either has ever met a working man, that would have been an accident of history.

The result is that these people don’t stand for much. They are in it just for themselves Rather they are defined by what they are against.  Trump is against anything done by Obama, and people of a different colour or religious belief.  Johnson is against Europe – or so he says.  Both are against migrants –their scapegoats of choice.  When your politics are defined by what you are against rather than what you are for, your recipe for bitter division – polarisation – is complete.

A related issue is that people don’t win elections – the other side loses them.  That is an Oz specialty.

Bloopers

Something will have to give.  Environmental awareness is one thing but outsourcing sovereignty is something else.  Amazon fires have exposed what has long been suspected.  Despite international agreements and peer group coercion, in the end nations will pursue their self-interest.  With the passing of each survival deadline that decision becomes easier.

Maurice Newman, The Australian, 29 August, 2019

The man who wrote that was appointed Chair of the ABC.

**

In response to an ASX query about its 21% share price jump yesterday morning, OneMarket revealed it had ‘engaged in confidential discussions with a number of parties regarding potential corporate actions.’

‘Those discussions are not mature and there is no guarantee that those discussions will progress or will result in any corporate action,’ OneMarket said after the close of trade.

The Australian, 29 August, 2019

Would you buy a used share in that outfit?  What ‘action’ of a corporation is not ‘corporate’?