Export Expert: Baroness Fairhead
Rona whoooooo? "Groucho club barefoots joined forces when Rona Fairhead was first announced as BBC chairman.
When we had the opportunity to oversee our national broadcaster in 2015, the name of the former Chief Executive of the Financial Times was not the first on everyone's lips.
Plum occupancy was previously the preserve of Media Bigwig's (Lord Grade), Silky New Laboratory (Sir Michael Lyons), or Public Sector Pigs (Lord Patten).
Fairhead was an unknown element that made Confused Corporation Lifter nervous.
As a career woman, there were fears that she might try to neglect the reasonable consumption culture of the Beeb a little.
Even worse, her husband Tom, a private equity boss, had acted as conservative councilor, and the couple was supposed to be friends with George Osborne, which led to the suspicion that she might have been too – a dirty Tory ,
She certainly looked like one. In her cream-colored skirt suits and coarse-grained pearls, she could have come from Tatler's society pages at the time of Princess Di Princess. It was the first proper role of Fairhead in the public sector, and the steel threefold mother of three seems to have a taste for it.
Rona, or Baroness Fairhead as she is now, serves as the government's export minister, an unpaid position that forces her to beat the drum for British business around the world.
In the past year she has collected more air miles than Phileas Fogg. Good job in aviation is one of her hobbies. As a member of the Bournemouth Flying Club, she was on the verge of recruiting as a pilot until she had offered to work on Downing Street last September.
As the daughter of a math teacher and a nuclear physicist grew up in the northeast, it was perhaps inevitable that Fairhead became a class opponent.
She was a Head Girl at the Yarm School, before she earned a double in Law at Cambridge, where she completed rowing-eighth-grade pairing.
Her first job was in a boring business consulting firm at Bain. This was followed by a stay with Morgan Stanley, before he joined the Canadian aircraft manufacturer Bombardier. In 1996, she returned to the northeast of the country as Vice President of chemical giant ICI.
Six years later, she got a role as Finance Director at Pearson, a publisher of the Financial Times. She made a double act with her charismatic boss Dame Marjorie Scardino, who in 2006 appointed her chief executive of the FT. In addition to an alleged £ 3 million salary package, their offices are so lavishly decked out that the chippy subordinates called their Rona Overhead When Dame Marjorie retired in 2012, Fairhead was passed over in favor of the younger John Fallon. She decided not to hang around and withdrew months later with a payout of £ 1 million.
Fairhead was not the first choice for the BBC role. David Cameron tried to win Lord Coe, who still enjoyed the success of the London Olympics.
But the former athlete saw it prematurely as an oily goblet. Aunt still wavered before the Jimmy Savile scandal and the controversy surrounding Newsnight / Lord McAlpine. With a seemingly gilded life between a £ 4 million home in London's Holland Park and a weekend home on Berkshire Highclere Castle Estate, it's clear why Fairhead wanted this job.
Considered as a metropolis of Cameron, there were immediately attempts to sell them. When she came out, she had been the £ 500,000 director of HSBC when her Swiss arm was prosecuted for alleged tax evasion. Labor's finger waggler Margaret Hodge demanded her resignation. Phew! As soon as Child Mouse enters Hodge with outrage, you know you're probably safe. Fairhead resigned last year when Theresa May asked her for a serious job application. Instead, she accepted equality instead and instead worked in the trading department.
If their stormy BBC experience has strengthened their resolve, maybe we should be grateful. The Hot Baroness is currently working to secure as many trade agreements as possible as we prepare to leave the European Union. If she can make a few before March, we'll remember her name for a long time.