There are things we know in the playground that the system, the world of 'business', helps us forget. Like profit.

Most kids know that if they are going to sell sweets in the playground they need to sell them for more than they bought them. So why is it that when I spoke to a senior sales director at a business last week, he said that sales had been going really well - but that the Board had been upset because they had not been selling for a profit. That interfering Board, it appeared, was getting in the way of some very big contracts.

Why is it that so many businesses and sales people have no sense and visibility of profit? Bureaucratic structures? The ego attached to sales and volumes?

When I was at P&G, I attended a meeting of the sales directors. I was a young, annoying, graduate not yet schooled in the ways of 'business'. Well, not in 'big' business, where common sense gives way to the institutional imperative. The Sales Directors agreed a promotional deal using up some of their unused budgets to provide a discount.

Because I was annoying, I worked out the finances of the deal and tentatively (well, maybe not tentatively - I can't really remember) pointed out we would be making a loss on the promotion. The chief of all Sales Directors looked a little disconcerted; he looked around at the eyes on him from his fellow directors and, after a pause, said confidently: ‘Yes, but we are doing it to shore up the base’. At which point, everyone breathed a sigh of relief and nodded approvingly, acknowledging it was indeed to ‘shore up the base’. And even I nodded, convinced by the group's conviction that we were quite rightly and properly shoring up the base.

It was only later that I realised I didn't know what 'shoring up the base' actually meant. And only later still that I realised it didn't mean anything at all.

Empty companies have no soul, no staff loyalty, and no sense of why they exist. They won't last.

You may have heard of the phrase empty calories. Sugar is a good example. Up there on calorification (you have the album?) and kind of not really up there on nutrients.

This got me thinking about empty companies. Companies perhaps that focus on the share price, but aren't really doing too much for society. An empty company has little loyalty or zeal from its people. Nor from its customers. Nor a sense of why it is improving life on this planet. It¹s where the Man has taken over and sucked any soul from it. Zombie businesses.

Often, from space, two competitors might look identical: same size, same industry, same customers. But when you look underneath the bonnet, or work in one, they are very different. In the good business, the employees talk about 'we' to describe the company, not 'they'. They presume trust. They are proud to say who they work for. And they have a sense of mission that includes but goes beyond the share price.

An example:  Nando's vs Burger King. Burger King (where I have had access to the inner workings of the company and Board) is in my view a zombie business. What is it really for? The company, at least from what I saw, had little care for its customers or people, has been owned by various corporations and consortia of PE firms, is pretty powerless to influence its franchisees (who by now are more keen on playing golf or flying around in their private jets than serving their customers or keeping their restaurants clean), and has in general run out of runway. Nando's, on the other hand, is run by the owners, who still care hugely for their mission and people; there is a huge sense of ownership and empowerment in each restaurant, even though they are employing people from the same backgrounds as Burger King are, and there is a sense of humanity and spirit.

I think this is why I often get frustrated when I am in meetings with bankers as they analyse a business. If Burger King and Nando's had the same key stats (revenue, P&L, balance sheet), most (not all) bankers would see no difference. That is like choosing a wife or husband based on key stats and ordering them on Amazon. And bankers and financiers tend to take the EBITDA line for granted and think that all the magic is done after that - with securitisation and balance sheet engineering. The key difference is where those businesses are HEADED. Nando's, I suggest, has cash flows that are sustainable. As a result of a sustainable culture, vision and values.

Sometimes a similar thing can happen when the FD becomes the CEO. Every business needs a vision guy (or girl) and a process guy/girl. The process guy always thinks he can do it without the vision guy. And sometimes when the CEO leaves, the FD convinces the Board that he knows the finances inside out and is secretly glad he can cut the cost of all those stupid away days.

It¹s like when a Chancellor of the Exchequer (who wasn¹t 'all that' anyway) decides he is going to become Prime Minister. 'Look, if you want all that fancy schmancy vision and ethos stuff, I’m not your man. But if you want someone who can stay up late and get bags under their eyes looking at the monthly accounts, that¹s me.' Listening to the PM debates is like listening to an FDs debate. It¹s all about how to shuffle the finances. Where is the debate about how to CREATE wealth for the FDs to shuffle? Where is the debate about what matters beyond the share price?

So could it be that we are fast creating an empty country? I hear business people talking about 'UK plc' as if the most important thing is our economics, our share price. OF COURSE that is important. Of course we need to have a strong and credible currency. Just as any plc or private business needs strong finances. But the bigger question is: what are we here for? What is beneath the bonnet? Do we have spirit? Do we leave school with imagination and verve - not just an ability to add up enough to be an accounts clerk or use a till? Do we treat each other honestly, or default to lying and cheating ourselves and the system? Do we talk about 'we', not 'they'? Do we trust ourselves and our citizens, or do we erect cameras on every street corner? Do we take responsibility or do we accept having chips implanted in our necks?

We want a full country. We also want a good share price, of course. But share price and fullness are not mutually exclusive. In fact, a sustainably high share price is only possible if we are also full of life, vitality, love, sex, wellness, and creativity.

To make up for my recent absence, I'm going to reveal to you The Secret of good meetings.

OK, OK, I'm back. After more than a month off blogging (well, I did do a rather controversial review of a book) it had better be good, I guess. My friend Jimmy used to draw a graph of time to write a thankyou letter to effort and impact of thankyou letter. If you've been to someone's dinner party, it's nice maybe to send a quick text on the way home. If it's the next day, an email. If you have left it a few days, a nice letter with a biro. A week, and it has to be fountain pen. A week and a bit, fountain pen with an interesting colour ink (maybe aubergine) written on Smythson paper and perhaps a poem about the evening.

So here it is. The equivalent of the aubergine ink and the parchment. And I am going to reveal to you THE SECRET. Forget the power to create your own world through visualisation. Imagine you have climbed to the top of a Tibetan mountain monastery and there inside the temple is a scroll next to some smoking incense. Written on the scroll is the SECRET. The one tip you will carry with you. It is, in my words, the ABC of Successful Meetings.

How did I discover this? This week Henry and I have been told that we are probably in pole position to win a site at one of London’s best shopping venues. It follows a meeting with the landlord who owns the area, where we applied the ABC of successful meetings. And it is all down to Henry.

The morning started with me on the phone to Henry (he normally cycles but today he was in a local cab from his house in Hackney) and he interrupted, saying 'Oh no, we have to turn round - I've forgotten the cake'. So we finished our call, and I didn’t speak or see him before we both pitched up, with Simon the Leon FD, at the landlord’s offices. There were two people from the landlord (one of the big, corporate-ish landlords) and as well as us three, we had Eric our property agent there too. Henry had been finalising our new cake range, made by Clare 'Cup cakes' (I am embarrassed to say we have always called her Clare Cup Cakes so I can’t tell you her surname) and had with him a big Chocolate Fantasy Cake. Chocolate, after my family and friends, is the most important thing (am I a girl, because I also like the smell of lavender? Though I like making love to my wife so it is six of one, half a dozen of the other). By happy coincidence, it was Eric’s birthday. Eric is very lean and has the sort of metabolism that allows him to eat constantly without having to offset it with an hour in Fitness First.
 
Now, Richard from the landlord also likes eating. So he, too, was very excited that there was a gateau to hand. In fact, Richard got into the whole thing. He found some candles ('So what if the sprinklers go off and we all have to evacuate the building?'). I was starting to enjoy our little rebellion. And does it make me bad that I was quite hoping the sprinklers were going to go off? And once lit, we all sang happy birthday, and Eric blew out the candles (blowing sideways to avoid spitting on the icing) and we tucked in. Now I shouldn’t really be eating wheat (I can show you the medical evidence if you think I am just being trendy!) so any break to this rule had  to be worth it. And, Clare Cup Cakes, it was.
 
So by the time we got down to the business part, we were a merry band of brothers (sorry to Sheila who runs the property company for not inviting you). and could have spent another thirty minutes, had we had the time, playing musical statues and pinning the tail on the donkey. After that, the business bit went really well: we agreed that we would like to work together, and agreed a timeframe for making our final decisions.

So there it is. The ABC of Successful meetings: Always Bring Cake.
 
You think I'm being flippant? You feel that the climb to the top of the mountain has not been worth it? All I say to you is try it. Next time you have a big meeting - with your biggest customer, With your biggest investor or with your bank - bring cake. Then let me know if I am right.