Collective Genius

Dug Russell and Michael McLeod’s leap of faith

“I WAS 42 and CEO of a major food-service company when I was made redundant. I’d been heavily involved in Aboriginal employment but it became clear to me there were better ways for corporate Australia to engage with the Indigenous community. So I decided to start a business venture with an Aboriginal person. I’d put the money in but that person would own the majority of the company. If it didn’t work, I’d lose some money but we’d have given it a go.

I met Michael in Sydney in late 2002. He had to borrow money to get the train from Wollongong; he had no job and no income. He’d already tried to start his own business that – due to a combination of factors – failed, big time. I was struck by his willingness to listen and have a go. He was destitute; he had nothing to lose. I knew that he was the guy.

As Michael drip-fed me his history – stolen generation, homelessness, alcoholism and heroin addiction – I became more convinced that what I was doing, and the person I was doing it with, was right because what better example could the country have?

When we set up Message Stick, Michael was initially shy but, gee, that changed quickly. Imagine those first few minutes when he and I walk into [then CEO] Ralph Norris’s office at CBA or [then CEO] Gail Kelly’s office at Westpac and Michael is going to lead the meeting. He did a great job.

Though we worked for nothing for almost two years, I wanted Aboriginal people to be able to go to corporates and say, ‘I don’t want money from you; I want an opportunity to engage with you via business.’ To that end, we set up Supply Nation in 2009.

No-one I know has anything like Michael’s life experience. When things get difficult, it’s like there’s a steel rod running through his backbone. Nothing anyone can put to him now comes close to the pain or problems he’s had in the past.

Michael is on a different plane to most CEOs he meets. He has learned how to operate in the business world but in his heart and soul he’s not a businessman; he’s more interested in the human side of life.”

MICHAEL SAYS

“WHEN I was 10, having been removed from my mother and, later, my foster family, I ran away from a children’s home. I ended up in Kings Cross [in Sydney], where I had my first hit of heroin.

I was a state ward and instead of going into foster care on weekends, I went to the Cross. Nobody really checked up and when they did, they didn’t really follow up. Despite all that, I did my Higher School Certificate. But then I went into a downward spiral. For about seven years, from my mid-twenties, I was homeless; I ended up begging.

When I wound up in detox, a counsellor asked why I was locked in substance abuse and dereliction. It was really easy to answer: welfare dependency. That question was an epiphany. I decided to reject welfare and start Australia’s first Indigenous ISP [internet service provider]. I ran it for about six years and failed quite successfully.

One day, when I was really struggling, I asked my friend, Rick Farley [former head of the National Farmers’ Federation], if he knew a corporate warrior stupid enough to join forces with me. Rick introduced me to Dug. He was a successful businessman and like someone you’d see on Dallas. He said, ‘I can’t promise you anything except a lot of hard work.’

Dug was this very humble, successful guy who wanted to give back. He had more to lose than I did. Being a recovering heroin addict, I could have gone back but Dug trusted me more than I trusted myself.

Our first meeting with a CEO was with Danny Gilbert from the law firm Gilbert + Tobin. I was so nervous, I couldn’t keep the cheesy grin off my face but he put me at ease straight away. I felt like I was in a movie.

If you take Dug out of it, there’s a big gap in my ability to take the business forward. If you take me out of it, it’s impossible for Dug. We complement each other.

In Dug, I met a true friend. He helped me step from absolute poverty into financial independence with no promise of success.

I have peace of mind now, which I never thought I’d have. If I changed anything about my past, it would limit some of the important learnings. I don’t think that’s how life works.”