I was triggered this week. I hate to use that word, as it draws sneering, 2016-style accusations of being a snowflake. However, the triggering caused me to consider “red flags” and why they are so easily seen in the rear view mirror but rarely acknowledged in the present.
I’ve spoken about this several times but have never written it down. A few years ago, I was invited to chair a one-day conference in Germany dedicated to all things blockchain and crypto. The keynote speaker had spent time in prison as part of the now-defunct Silk Road black market. He called his time behind bars as “the best bitcoin meet-up he’d ever been to” given the sheer number of convicted felons, involved in the nascent crypto world, who were serving time with him.
At the end of the event, I was due to announce the winner of a start-up competition. As I called for the founders to take the stage I was joined by a scantily clad young woman, in five-inch heels, holding a comically large cheque of the kind you might see on an afternoon TV game show. The organisers looked at me and gave a thumbs up. I gave a tight smile and thought: “WTF… I’m on the set of The Benny Hill Show.”
I have met dozens upon dozens of people involved in the crypto world who are not fraudsters, nor have any desire to be one. However, the industry — which was literally born out of a desire to work outside the established regulatory environment — has been rather successful in not only attracting those who feel “laws” are for the little people, but also people who have criminally low levels of knowledge on how the global financial system actually works.
This type of immaturity is what led to putting a random glamour model on stage, never mind a convicted felon who evidently was unrepentant of his crimes.
The world of risk management often talks about “red flags”: small details that on their own seem innocuous, but in the context of a larger transgression should have had more attention paid to them.
A trader who never took holidays, a multi-billion-dollar wealth management firm whose returns no Wall Street bank could replicate, a 20-something crypto mogul who couldn’t be bothered to turn off a video game to offer his full attention to a pitch deck meeting with potential investors: all red flags that were ignored and preceded some of the greatest financial crimes and scandals of the 21st century.
My mind went to other minor episodes I’ve witnessed in my career — none of which were crimes, or illegal, or even scandalous — but should serve as red flags shining an unfavourable light on the organisers and participants.
That one time I was the only female speaker, over two full days, at an event in Malta. (An event that found nine men to talk about blockchain but couldn’t locate a second woman to talk about payments in the Mediterranean.)
The venture capital dinner, with 100 guests, where I was the only woman in the room being served, rather than serving.
The Russian payments start-up, which demoed at an event in London by bringing a model onstage to show how she was selling what few clothes she had via their merchant offering. The men at this event, who felt no shame, no embarrassment, no hesitation in taking to social media to post updates like “Whoa, I’m definitely paying attention to this one!” (I could go on, but I will spare you).
I tried to ignore the news last month about an afterparty at a crypto event in London hosted by Copper, which featured sushi being served on, again, models wearing very few clothes.
Yes, the models were — this time — both men and women. However, 1) if I must talk you through the power dynamics involved in the patriarchy, please consult your daughter who first made you realise women were people deserving of rights and equal opportunities. If you don’t have a daughter, find a copy of Feminism for Dummies or a picture book from the 1970s featuring Marlo Thomas to get you up to speed, and 2) objectifying and demeaning men isn’t a way to redress any gender imbalances.
Honestly, I tried to ignore it because the Copper sushi night was all so “crypto bro circa 2013” and, frankly, cringe. But then, this week (also in the Financial Times) it was reported that Buck’s, a men-only member’s club in London, was considering admitting disgraced, but not convicted, financier Crispin Odey.
Odey was ousted from his namesake fund management company last year over accusations of sexual assault and rape. Keep in mind that being ousted from the job was the same punishment given to Alison Rose, former CEO of NatWest, who commented on the financial holdings of a UK political provocateur who threw a fit at being denied a posh bank account. But I digress…
What triggered me was the small detail that Buck’s — by no means the only men’s club in London, and home of the Buck’s fizz cocktail — regularly held what members called “nieces’ night”. These events, publicly called the Bond Street Horticultural Society, had older male members invite young women, specifically in their 20s, to dine at the club. It should be understood that these women weren’t actually attending the dinner escorted by their real “uncles”, geddit?! These women were then expected to move around the tables in a game of what I can only imagine was creepy-old-man musical chairs.
This night has been going on for several years. Buck’s briefly debated ending “nieces’ night” after the FT broke the story of abuse and sexual harassment at the now-disbanded President’s Club charity dinner. The dinner ran for several years with an all-female serving staff and an all-male guest list (sexual harassment happening at this type of event? Say it ain’t so!).
Why am I offering these episodes for comment when, honestly, I would give my left arm to be commenting on anything else? It’s all about red flags.
When I wrote my viral post about “Women in…” events last month, I was asked by several people (all men, by the way) what I suggest be done to move the needle in gender parity. We all know “fixing women” with confidence or empowerment, or inspired inclusion, are not my preferred methods.
However, we work in an industry that is all about money. How to make money, move it around, increase its worth and increase the wealth of individuals and businesses. It can be easy to focus solely on the money and to turn a blind eye to minor events that don’t seem to affect you or your business. What events do you agree to attend? Which clubs do you accept membership of? Which groups, and with whom, do you do business?
If you evaluate a start-up, and see they have no women on their founding team, shouldn’t that be a red flag? If you look around at the businesses and gatherings, and see not one person of colour or only hear one accent, shouldn’t you stop and think: “Is this a red flag?” (I think yes to both.) But I understand it is hard and it takes a fair amount of self-reflection.
In 2024 it isn’t illegal for a private members club to encourage their older male clientele to *nudge nudge*, *wink wink* invite young “nieces” to dinner. However, 2024 should be a year that most men consider this type of event, as well as eating sushi off models, as not only creepy and anachronistic, but as a major red flag.
This article has been amended since publication to remove some comments about Alison Rose and the Copper event models
Liz is deputy editor of The Banker. You can connect with Liz on LinkedIn, or follow her on Bluesky.
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