In this edition, the team investigates the magic behind Warren Buffett's success, asks if there's anything businesses can learn from a papal conclave, and explores the curry on the King's conscience.

While we will never claim to know the inner workings of the firms and crises we discuss, we do believe these fallouts are instructive in building business resilience and preparedness. Ignore them at your peril.

An All You Can Eat (Reputational) Buffett As Warren Buffett hands over the reins of Berkshire Hathaway, much has already been said about the financial wizardry of the Oracle of Omaha. But in the ever-theorising world of investment strategy, there’s something more stubbornly qualitative at the top of our minds: reputation.

Sure, his stock-picking was pretty good. But his real edge lay in how he cultivated his own reputation to act as a compounder, not just of returns, but of resilience. Berkshire, and the companies it backed, benefited from the halo of trust that surrounded him. And that matters. Why? Because trust is a moat. And moats hold, even when markets don’t.

This argument sounds quaint in a hyper-financialised world, but it may be just the opposite. In an age where markets price in data but not necessarily judgement, Buffett’s reputation offered a form of informational alpha that couldn’t be captured in a spreadsheet – but that proved invaluable in moments of uncertainty.

For Berkshire, this granted the firm something rare: latitude. In 1998, when Berkshire fell 44% as the markets surged, most fund managers would’ve been laughed off Wall Street, but Buffett stayed put and so did the trust. That same reputational ballast made him the safe pair of hands that everyone turned to in 2008.

This effect rippled outward, too. Companies that received Buffett’s backing were seen not just as financially sound, but credible and trustworthy. His involvement sent a message: this is a business worth believing in. That credibility boosted share price, helped defuse scrutiny, attracted talent, and much more. In short, Buffett’s brand became theirs.

The irony of all of this, of course, is that the success of the most disciplined value investor has always been rooted in what many still call a ‘soft’ metric. In a world obsessed with the concrete, he showed that what’s most intangible can yield the greatest returns.

From Omaha to Rome: the Future of CEO Succession

A conclave is perhaps the world’s second most heavily scrutinised leadership transition, after a US presidential election. The latter is long and transparent; the former mysterious, comparatively swift and wholly unaccountable.

Where once a corporate succession might have resembled a conclave, they have in recent years begun to more closely resemble elections. It’s become part of the established rules of corporate engagement that, where possible, a prospective CEO should be heavily trailed, so the markets have time to adjust.

But is this always the best way to run things? After all, the life of an anointed CEO-in-waiting is far from comfortable.

For one, the longer a person sits in the waiting room, the more time there is for them to be compared to the incumbent, for commentators to highlight flaws and for negative briefings to surface. And, all the while, the individual can’t deploy the one argument that might win over critics: actually doing the job.

Greg Abel, taking over from Warren Buffett, has been endlessly analysed and critiqued before he’s had the chance to even take on the job. One downside of Buffett’s reputational genius is that commentators have rushed to assume that no one else can handle the empire that is Berkshire Hathaway.

It’s even worse to be one of multiple publicised contenders, as with the candidates for the throne at J.P. Morgan. Here, would-be successors are ranked, backed by internal factions and endlessly compared. Those who remain in the long race are often unfavourably measured against those who made a timely exit.

No wonder panicky investors have voted through generous retention packages for Jamie Dimon, again and again.

So how should corporate successions be handled? Slowly and clearly, or suddenly and abruptly?

New leaders should be trailed, but within a relatively short window. Enough time for markets to get comfortable, but not so long that perceptions get fixed before the change has even taken place.

How (Not) to Curry Favour

It’s fair to say the news that the UK’s oldest curry house is facing closure has left a bad taste in readers’ mouths. The thought of the Crown Estate – His Majesty’s property portfolio – in effect requisitioning an Indian owned and managed business evokes a rather unsavoury past.

And all this to provide a more expansive reception area – an extra 11 square meters – to service the swanky Mayfair offices that sit above.

Food is an emotive topic, and perhaps none more so than curry, a cuisine so assimilated into British culture that many natives consider the chicken tikka masala their national dish. It was vindaloo, not fish and chips, that provided the chorus to Fat Les’ football anthem for the 1998 World Cup.

While Veeraswamy, the restaurant in question, might consider itself a touch more refined than your average curry house (it boasts a Michelin star), it is an irrefutably British institution. Next year it was hoping to celebrate 100 years of operation.

The Crown Estate’s decision to not renew its lease is curious. In response to criticism, which also prompted a petition addressed to King Charles asking that he intercede with the Crown Commissioners, a spokesperson said the following:

“We need to carry out a comprehensive refurbishment of Victory House. This includes a major upgrade to the offices and improving the entrance to make it more accessible. Due to the limited options available in this listed building we need to remove the entrance to the restaurant, which means we will not be able to offer Veeraswamy an extension when their lease expires.”

Landlords evicting tenants is nothing new, but when the landlord is the Crown Estate, there is a higher standard to uphold. Evicting a tenant that has honourably paid their dues for 99 years – particularly one so deeply woven into Britain's multicultural tapestry – seems short-sighted, and out of step with the values King Charles himself has championed.

London’s soul thrives not on extra square metres of office receptions, but on its living heritage – unlike new receptions, institutions like Veeraswamy, blending tradition and modernity, are harder to come by. King Charles might urge his Commissioners to reconsider their decision and score an easy win.