High Flyers

She co-founded Harris Farm Markets with an outer-Sydney shop in 1971. Now there are 23 stores in NSW and an online business. But it’s been a lesson in adversity, explains the company’s chair, who is also an NRL commissioner, a mother of five sons and Hono

What was life like as a child, growing up with nine siblings?

Absolutely fabulous and, as time goes by, I’m pleased to say it becomes more fabulous. Being so close in age, there were tensions and competition growing up but interestingly, the friendships have become closer not further apart.

I note that your mother, despite having 10 children, had her own ambitions and successes. [Mary Rossi was one of the first Australian women to have her own TV program, Woman’s World, and founded a business called Mary Rossi Travel.]

I don’t know if it was ambition. Opportunities were presented that she grabbed with both hands. Mum went to uni, which was unusual, and a friend said, “We’re starting the ABC; would you be involved?” I’m also driven to see an opportunity and think, “That would be interesting thing to do.”

Your mum was also keen for you to respect your roots so she moved the family to Italy when you were 16.

During World War II, my grandfather [Italo Rossi] – who was born in Australia and played footy for Australia and whose business was geared up to make the hatbands and puggarees for the Australian Army – was thrown into an internment camp. He was considered an alien even though his son, my dad, was fighting in the war. People tried to hide their heritage. But Mum and Dad said, “Let’s go. Let’s get the kids to understand the real Italy.”

You married David Harris not long after university and decided to go into business early. I understand that the decision was between running a funeral parlour and selling fruit and vegetables?

I didn’t want to be an undertaker’s wife. Of course, Dad said, “We tried to change the image that all Italians are greengrocers and you’re going to be a greengrocer?”

What do you see as the big learning from those early days?

We were young and enthusiastic. We had all these ideas but we just didn’t keep a close eye on the bottom line. We spent a lot of money, for example, on IT. In those days, you had to put tomatoes on a set of scales and calculate

what 2.2 kilograms would cost at 59 cents a kilo. So we worked with IBM and bought all these computer systems but we were burning capital, buying new shops because they were so successful, and it just didn’t add up.

You went from multiple stores to three?

After about 10 years of huge growth, we realised that we were running out of capital. The company was bought by what’s now called an equity partner and expanded even faster, which is exactly what happens these days – young people want to expand so they get into bed with these big equity partners. Unfortunately, our financier suddenly fell through. We tried to buy back our business but interest rates were at 17 per cent and there was no hope.

You fought hard, didn’t you?

We kept three shops. We worked with the banks and our parents and were able to rebuild. The interesting thing is that when we were selling off, nobody was interested in the computer system – because they didn’t understand it – or the brand name, because they thought it was damaged. So we still owned the two things we thought were our biggest assets.

It’s almost necessary, isn’t it, to experience these challenges to learn how much grit you have?

Absolutely. Someone interviewed my youngest son [Lachlan Harris, a former adviser to then prime minister Kevin Rudd] and asked how he got involved in social justice when he has a wealthy background. He gave two reasons: he was brought up with Jesuits and he was there when Mum and Dad went broke and had to borrow money to buy school shoes.

Around this time, you were headhunted for the federal director’s role of the Affirmative Action Agency. Is the issue of affirmative action in a good place now?

Look, it wouldn’t matter how much learning happens about what is correct and not correct, you still have this background of upbringing and perceptions about certain roles. If you asked most men if they were in any way biased towards men or women, they would say they definitely select on merit. But I say, “If 50 per cent of all lawyers are women, why – if we are

“We were young and enthusiastic. We had all these ideas but we just didn’t keep a close eye on the bottom line.”

CATHERINEHARRIS

looking for a lawyer – don’t we have one in the selection group?” There are still areas where it’s so subliminal, you could hardly recognise it. I still think we’ve got a little further to go.

In 2013, you had a significant cancer scare and underwent chemotherapy. How do you reflect on that experience?

I think I didn’t acknowledge to myself or anybody else how seriously ill I was. That was unrealistic but good because I just forged on. Afterwards, I broke my knee and I don’t know whether that pushed me a little too far but I found it more debilitating.

Tell me about the decision to appoint three of your sons – Luke, Tristan and Angus – as co-CEOs.

About three years ago, David said, “When I was my kids’ ages, I was running Harris Farm. What is going to happen to the boys? Are they going to wait until I’m 90 then pop me off?” He was really hands-on but he generously let the boys take over. Everybody said, “You’re mad. You cannot have three CEOs.” But they are doing a better job than we ever did.

How has your experience of running a business and building a brand helped in your role on the Australian Rugby League Commission?

I don’t know if it has helped the NRL yet. I don’t think the NRL has done a fantastic job of its brand. There’s this perception that the players are wife-bashers when, in reality, the vast majority are the nicest young men you could meet. The unwritten NRL story is the impact it has on country communities – programs that get Aboriginal kids to go to school.

You’re also Honorary Consul for Bhutan. How did that come about?

Twenty years ago, an agricultural consultant arrived from Bhutan and wanted to learn about mandarins. After a day of discussions on technical issues, he thanked David for his input and then said, “Unfortunately, the biggest problem for us is when the pickers go into the fields to pick the mandarins and they get eaten by tigers!” David just looked at this guy and said, “Would you like to come and have dinner with my children?”

I’d never heard of Bhutan. Then we visited, loved it and, when the 2000 Olympics came, offered to be the attaché for Bhutan. Then they asked if I’d be the Honorary Consul. Recently, I told him I thought it was time to get a new consul, that this one is far too old. And he said, “We have a saying in Bhutan that anybody who breaks a relationship that is going well will have lifelong bad luck.”

As well as Bhutan, you’ve travelled the world: Iceland, Morocco, the Middle East...

David and I go to the weirdest places – horseriding in Tajikistan was our latest adventure – but when we get on the plane back home and that first person says, “G’day, how ya going?”, it’s a lovely feeling.