Santa’s secrets
What the movers and shakers of the business world most want so see in their Christmas stockings
Dear Santa,
Forgive me for waiting until the age of 50 to write to you for the first time, but we’ve only just introduced fact-checking and our highly trained Facebook moderators have concluded that you are definitely real.
So I thought I should reach out and see if we could touch base about some of the deliverables that we might be able to expedite in 2020.
For all these years I’ve believed that if you just work that bit harder, sit at the table and play by the rules then everything will be fine. But all that Leaning In has been exhausting, if I’m honest, and everyone is still being mean about us all the time. Mark [Zuckerberg] says I can just write to you with a wish list and I’ll get everything I want at Christmas (it’s always worked for him, apparently), so here goes.
We just got one election out of the way without the collapse of global democracy, so if we could navigate the big one next November without anyone lying, making anything up, or posting any misleading claims in political adverts, that’d be great. After all, we don’t plan to actually check any of them (either once or twice).
Second, could you also make sure no one obtains our data without user consent in order to micro-target questionable adverts, damaging trust and faith in the democratic process?
Oh, and Mark wants a new air hockey table for the office.
Thanks
Sheryl
Sheryl Sandberg by Olivia Rudgard
Dear Santa,
Whew. What a year it’s been. What with not doing Brexit, not moving interest rates, or even changing any Bank of England policy at all one iota, I’m pretty bushed up here in north London, reclining on the sustainable bamboo sofa Diana bought me (thanks, hon).
So what can I ask you for this Christmas? I know you’re busy this time of year, but you may have heard that I’m heading to pastures new ts March. It’s goodbye Threadneedle Street, hello United Nations special envoy on climate change.
So with that hat on, I’d just like to say well done to you on the sustainable magic reindeer stuff, it’s a really eco-friendly way to travel. I’ll be flying all over the world pushing for “sleighs for all” in the new job. I might even rack up more than the 65,000 air miles and the 36,000 tons of carbon I managed last year at the
Bank, but hey, you can’t make an omelette without breaking a few free-range organic eggs.
Still Diana’s been bending my ear a little about all those flights. So what I really, really want for Christmas is one of those emissions-free, carbon neutral, solar-powered yachts like the Thunberg kid has got – after all why should she get all my press? If you could see your way to flying in a crew of 10 to help me sail it when I pick it up in New York, that would be kind of cool too. Yours
Mark
Mark Carney by Russell Lynch
Oh hey! Santa!
It’s incredible to be writing to you. Ever since I saw you in that movie Elf, I’ve admired you because I believe you and I are alike. You started with a simple idea – give a toy to every single child who asks for one, without getting anything in return – and soon you’d touch the lives of billions. You never made a cent, but your brand is bigger than Gandhi’s – that’s inspirational.
I know most people ask you for gifts. But this letter is about what I can give you. Since my previous company and I grew apart, I’ve been working on something new: a revolutionary way to channel our collective energy to stop climate change, uplift the way we raise our children and solve the problem of chapped lips. I can explain everything once you sign the NDA, but the point is I want you to join me on the ground floor.
I know you’re not afraid to make bold bets, and I promise you that what you invest today will be nothing to the change we make together. Santa! Baby. I’m your white knight. Think of this as a message from the universe. Don’t close your heart.
With transcendent joy,
Adam
Adam Neumann by Laurence Dodds
Dear Santa,
Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m bothering. I used to ask you for the job of chief executive at a major company, compensated by a multimillion-pound salary. Then I got that, and it was the worst experience of my life.
When I took over at Centrica, we were flying! We had a huge market share, and it looked like no one could knock us off our perch.
And then you let that wicked witch Theresa May get her way and introduce a price cap. Why would you do that? Do you know how much that cost me, Santa!? It cost me my job.
Joking aside, it also cost us about £300m in profits annually.
Which was extremely sad. And probably contributed to me losing my job (though I’m sticking around for a while yet).
In recent months, I’ve done my best to try to turn the tide. I’ve tried to sell our power plants, and oil and gas assets.
However, the market is still not convinced. They say that it’ll come down to my successor to reinvent the company …
And what about me? No one’s thinking about little old Iain, are they? What do I get from this?
Oh – that’s right, I was paid £2.4m in April while the company tanked around me.
So perhaps, if it’s not too much trouble, you could get me another job as chief executive of a major company? Yours,
Iain
Iain Conn by Ed Clowes
Dear Santa,
I would tweet this but I’m not sure if asking for presents might count as an acquisition. The SEC takes a pretty dim view of my tweets about that kind of stuff. So I’ll stick to a letter.
I’ve been a good boy this year. I haven’t called anyone a “pedo guy” or said I’m taking Tesla private and have funding secured, so I think I deserve a present. Well, lots of them. How about 420 of them? If that’s asking too much, there are a couple of things I’d like.
First, some armoured glass. The cyber truck launch was embarrassing.
I also want a diary. I keep promising things and then forgetting about them. Nothing important, y’know, just like promising a mission to Mars by 2018, or building half a million Teslas a year by last year (note to self, must get around to that). A diary would be useful for keeping of all those promises.
And I was going to ask for clothes, but I’ve got plenty of shorts, so I won’t need those.
Love Elon
Elon Musk by Alan Tovey
Dear Santa,
I won’t ask you to come to my Devon pile this year. You might struggle to land the sleigh between the Porsches in the driveway. Plus we paid for a big refurb last year, and I wouldn’t want you to get the new extension mucky with your boots, or the reindeer to scare our several dozen horses. Besides, I’m not really in a position to ask for favours after the year I’ve had. Not only did my fund blow up, but I stopped savers withdrawing their hard-earned cash and still kept banking fees. Scrooge would be proud. I’ve gone from “the man who can’t stop making money”, to “the man who makes it at the expense of others”. It’s all a bit unfortunate, especially for my dear friends at Hargreaves Lansdown who had nearly a quarter of its clients tied up in my fund. Whoops! Still, there is one thing you could do for me if you’re feeling in the Christmas spirit. I’m plotting a comeback in China. If you could make sure they don’t find out about this embarrassing mess over there, that would be really great.
Love NW
PS If you’re wondering where to put your hard-earned money next year, you know where to find me.
Neil Woodford by Ben Marlow