ESG - the great confection

The Vicar of Fibley: ESG and the Pursuit of the Perfect Cake

Imagine if Larry Fink, the chief architect of the world’s most powerful financial firm, BlackRock, had taken a different path—one of pastoral care rather than portfolio management. Picture him as the Reverend Fink, administering to the well-hoofed flock of Fibley, a genteel village just beyond the M25.

From the pulpit of St. Fiduciary and St. Prudence, the good Reverend expounds on the virtues of righteous financial living and the benefits of a properly audited P&L account.

The highlight of the parish year is the annual village fête, where Reverend Fink presides over the crucial ‘Cake of the Year’ competition. Unfortunately, his judgement has, historically, been disastrously poor.

Take the infamous 2015 ‘Volkswagen Soufflé’. Seduced by its artificially inflated size, Rev. Fink awarded it First Prize. Moments later, a foul-smelling gas filled the marquee, leading to "The Emissions Scandal" and asphyxiating several members of the Ladies Circle.

Then there was the ill-fated ‘Deepwater Flambé’ of 2010. A flaming chocolate fountain in a gazebo screamed “disaster” to everyone but Larry. When lit, the entire confection ignited, leaving its creators, Brian and Petronella, (BP) with a hefty $14 billion ‘fine’ for polluting the village duck pond. It was, truly, a fête worse than death.

His track record is miserable: the giant, hollow 'Enron Bubble' pyramid cake; the rushed and tragically flawed 'Boeing Bombe' of 2019.

The Gospel of ESG

With such a litany of scandals, is it any wonder the Rev. Fink has become cautious? Indeed, since 2019, he has insisted all cake entries must contain high levels of ESG—the latest ‘must have’ ingredient for anyone interested in making serious dough.

The Venerable Fink now misses no opportunity to expound the virtues of ESG, claiming it makes the world a better place. The problem is, while there is much fanfare about this mysterious substance, few, if any, truly know what it does or how to measure it.

Predictably, a multitude of self-styled experts have rushed into the tent, claiming to hold the secret to successful ESG baking. Yet, no fundamental guidelines—no agreed ingredients or quantities—exist.

And what does ‘ESG’ even stand for? While the agreed terminology is 'Environmental, Social and Governance', more cynical observers suggest it’s really an 'Elaborate Signalling Gambit' or shorthand to 'Evade Superficial Guilt'.

Whatever its meaning, the Right Reverend Fink has embraced this ethereal substance, seeing it as both an insurance policy against future scandal and, crucially, a means of raising still greater returns at his cake stand. It was, after all, a pie chart illustrating how ESG-accredited products could command up to 15% more investment than 'legacy' options that convinced him ESG was the future.

The Steeple Fund and the Sinner

Yet, despite all the seemingly good news, some within his congregation question the Rev's new-found zeal. What lies behind this Damascene Conversion? Prior to his epiphany, Larry had been more than happy to "follow the money." Are we now expected to believe he is genuinely focused on the health of his flock, or remains primarily concerned with the health of their bank balance? Critics believe this new-found zeal has more to do with his desire to raise his glorious erection—the Steeple Fund.

Those sitting in the pews on the left point to Fink's continued, unhealthy interest in weapons manufacturing, which he defends by claiming they contribute to a safer world. So much for turning swords into ploughshares. He is also happy to turn a blind eye to ‘slights-of-hand’ such as carbon offset schemes, which effectively transfer domestic problems to other parishes.

Bearing all this in mind, it is fair to ask whether this turbulent priest’s pursuit of ESG goes much further than the fiscal. Is the Vicar of Fibley truly a reformed sinner and a spiritual guide for sustainable capitalism—a genuine Chaplain of Industry—or just a telly-evangelist with a new cake-mix of marketing and marzipan to sell?

Still, the congregation seems reassured, the Steeple Fund continues to grow, and the ESG bunting flutters proudly over the cake stand. In the end, as with all curate’s eggs, it’s good in parts. And when the collection plate comes round, few complain, so long as their investments rise with the hymns.

The Reverend Fink, then, continues to preach to the choir—and the choir, bless them, sings on.