Shareholder: I wish to
complain about this parrot what I
purchased not half an hour ago from this
very boutique.
Executive: Oh yes,
the, uh, the Norwegian Blue ... What's,
uh ... What's wrong with it?
Shareholder: I'll
tell you what's wrong with it, my lad.
'E's dead, that's what's wrong with it!
Executive: No, no, 'e's
uh ... he's resting.
*AS Babcock & Brown
moved ever closer to its maker
yesterday, nicely positioned to follow
Allco Finance Group to the corporate
graveyard, there still seemed to be a
stubborn refusal to acknowledge that the
so-called Macquarie model is, like Monty
Python's parrot, actually dead.
Just like his
predecessor Phil Green, Babcock chief
executive Michael Larkin, while he went
close, could not quite admit the bird
was indeed no longer alive.
"The idea of assets
being pooled for investment has been
around forever," Larkin said.
"What we recognise is
that is going to happen and we think we
are well placed to do it."
Then he gave a just a
little ground: "The compensation that
individuals receive has to be
appropriately matched to the return that
investors can get. We are changing to
align our compensation model and our fee
model to align it with the return that
investors get in our funds."
Too little, too late?
"I not trying to move
away from the Babcock structure," Larkin
said. "The infrastructure business, we
think, is very sound and that is what we
put to the banks. We think we have got a
very credible business; it is unique and
world class."
The "Macquarie model"
-- picking up infrastructure assets,
preferably monopolies, with reliable
income streams to service the debt used
to buy them, then banking millions of
dollars in fees for the deal, packaging
the assets into a fund and stitching up
long-term unbreakable contracts to
manage them -- has been Australia's gift
to the financial markets.
Unfortunately for
shareholders in Babcock & Brown, it has
been the gift that has kept on giving in
a very wrong way.
In trying to
hard and too fast to mimic the Macquarie
model, Babcock finally admitted last
night, after stringing its syndicate of
25 banks along for most of the year,
that it really wasn't going to be able
to deal with its $3.1 billion debt load
after all.
And that's
just a small slice of the $50 billion
debt that the whole group, struggling
satellites and all, continued to creak
underneath.
It was
apposite, too, that on Tuesday,
Macquarie Bank chief Nicholas Moore
waited until he was quizzed on the
future of the listed infrastructure
model, before making the signal sweep of
his hand to remove his spectacles as he
delivered his 43 per cent profit slump.
It was, of course, precisely the right
time for the only mini-moment of drama
at a typically dry briefing.
Moore had
just been forced to write down $1.1
billion -- possibly the first of many --
on all sorts of infrastructure assets
(somewhere along the way property became
infrastructure as well).
Yet Moore
too, continued to mount a defence of the
model that he himself had pioneered and
used to drive the highest executive
salaries ever seen in this country.
Not that he
was too sure Macquarie would spin off
separately listed companies after the
abject disaster of its BrisConnections
toll-road project. Nor would it use its
own balance sheet, preferring to work
with any partners still game enough to
jump in.
"It's wrong
to lump Macquarie in with the Wall
Street firms when you're talking about
what we are doing and where we are
going. We have a different model," Mr
Moore said later.
The
Macquarie model, which no doubt keen
students will be studying for years to
come in courses on what went wrong in
the noughties share market boom, has
already claimed one local victim.
Last month,
the last-out-of-the-gate Macquarie
mini-me, Allco, collapsed in a steaming
heap of debt. Like Babcock, it started
paying too much for assets, more
eventually than the model could bear.
Babcock's
defining moment was outbidding Macquarie
for the assets of West Australian energy
group Alinta -- a company where
Macquarie had been assiduously working
both sides of the transaction.
But despite
this, Babcock and its rivals pressed on,
buying assets as the market was clearly
getting more and more expensive.
Still, as
Moore rather archly noted on Tuesday as
he launched his defence of the model,
Macquarie's London water utility Thames
Water was still a good investment
because people always need water, slump
or no slump.
It's worth
noting, too, that there is a big push by
governments around the world --
Australia's included -- to spend up big
on infrastructure projects to help
kick-start faltering economies around
the globe.
But in the
old days, they used to call them
utilities, governments owned them and
there were no management fees.
Shareholder:
Look, I took the liberty of examining
that parrot when I got it home, and I
discovered the only reason that it had
been sitting on its perch in the first
place was that it had been nailed there.
Nailed
indeed, poor shareholder.