An IO with a view

Sir William Purves's view over the Thames is one of the finest in London. "I don't have time to look at it," says Purves gruffly, getting in a quick spot of work at his desk while he waits for the head of public affairs to arrive. In a room awash with naval landscapes, his thick Scots accent ­ which friends and colleagues invariably try to imitate ­ rings out: "If your question is, when do our short lines of communications cease to work, I'll tell you. The short line breaks when the chief executive or group chairman shuts his door. My door is always open ­ all day ­ unless there is a meeting, and any executive can come and pop his head through the door and say by the way... You don't find that in every organization."

Purves, better known as Willie, joined the bank in 1954. "I can tell you exactly how many international staff there were ­ 255. I was number 255. In those days we published a blue book listing staff by seniority when they joined the bank. It was published in June 1955 and I was the last name on it." He looks slightly wistful: "255, and I can remember as a young man ­ I wasn't quite so young ­ I remember wondering after being in the bank six months, I wonder if I will ever get to the top." He ponders, as if considering the issue for the first time, wondering how John Gray, the retired chairman of HongkongBank would have ranked. "I'm not sure if I would ever have been number one ... Maybe I would."

He refers with pride to the international officers ­ the IOs ­ the group's unique asset, but adds: "There's no way 300 international officers can run a bank like this and of course some of the more senior people are no longer IOs: the head of Marine Midland, for example, and head of the HongkongBank Canada. Neither is an IO."

Pistol-packing Purves

Purves went out to Hong Kong in 1955, starting at the chopping (document stamping) desk with a pistol at his side ­ "I never found out if it was loaded." Unexpectedly, he is prepared to reminisce. "In 1955 the p&o [liner] would dock on a Monday morning between 7.30 and 8am. You had the cheapest indoor cabin and you would get a knock on your door, and you would get onto an old riverboat that still exists, the Wayfoong, and sail across the harbour. Someone met you and took you to the office, and one of the boys from the mess was waiting and took your trunks away. You said how do you do to the divisional head and at 9.30 you were hard at work having got off the ship at 8.00. That's the type of discipline we encourage and expect."

Purves has a reputation as a workaholic. How long is an average week? "Oh, I've never worked it out," he says, as if it would be a waste of time to do so. "I work as long as there is work to be done." He likes six hours' sleep, but five and a half will do, and luckily he can sleep on aeroplanes. He tries to get into the office for 8am but is sometimes a few minutes late thanks to London traffic. Traffic snarl-ups are a pet hate ­ according to one story he missed a wedding because he got stuck in a traffic jam, and he hasn't forgiven London's roads since.

He obviously travels a lot, but is reluctant to use the words "first class". He admits that at his level he can travel first class if the flight is over six hours and he has to go straight into a meeting. But usually he finds business class fine. "You're not going to meet many businessmen in first class," he says. "And quite often business is achieved. I don't push it. I'm not going up to everyone I see and handing out my card. But there is business on the bank's books today that was the result of a conversation on an aeroplane."

His subordinates talk about him a lot. "I suppose I'm a much more hands-on chairman than you would normally have, and that's probably because I used to be chief executive. But I'd be disappointed if many of my executives felt I was looking over their shoulder. It's fair to say I ask questions. Some would say I have a knack of finding an error or putting my finger on a soft spot. It's not because I'm clever, I'm not. But if you've been doing this for 40-something years you start knowing what to look for. Yes I ask questions and they are uncomfortable questions. It's not a bad thing because it means they're doing their job properly and their homework, and are ready for the unexpected question. But I believe once you've appointed somebody you let them get on with their job."

A few years ago a Myers Briggs psychometric test was carried out on the top 25 bank executives and produced an uncanny result ­ they had very similar personalities. "Oh I can't remember the detail. But I remember being present when the details were put on a screen. I think they were all the characteristics you would expect: cautious, conservative, some were more entrepreneurial. I don't think dull was used but sometimes that's used to apply to bankers."

Why were the tests done? "We were introducing some of these tests in our recruiting and we felt it was quite inappropriate to introduce them if we hadn't subjected ourselves to them."

The new intake have a cocktail party. "Yes, either myself or [group chief executive] John Bond attend. I give them some fatherly advice. I encourage them and tell them they're executives and must learn not to be spoon-fed. They will go as a young officer into a department and will work with people who are far more experienced. If they have to ask one of the senior clerks what to do in the second week, then they're lost. Little tips like that, which," he adds gesticulating with both hands, "because they come from the group chairman, most of them will remember."