His Dad's a Labour Peer, His Mum a Missionary, but Geraint Chose a Career in the Square Mile. Now, with Millions under His Belt, He's Revealing What Really Makes the City Tick and Prostitution, Cocaine and Fraud Are the Least of It! Whistleblower: Geraint Anderson

Daily Mail (London), June 25, 2008 | Go to article overview

His Dad's a Labour Peer, His Mum a Missionary, but Geraint Chose a Career in the Square Mile. Now, with Millions under His Belt, He's Revealing What Really Makes the City Tick and Prostitution, Cocaine and Fraud Are the Least of It! Whistleblower: Geraint Anderson


Byline: Barbara Davies

EVEN when he was just another Cityboy making a fortune inside London'sSquare Mile, there was something odd about Geraint Anderson. While otherfilthy-rich analysts, stockbrokers and hedgefund managers spent their obscenelylarge bonuses on Porsches and Rolex watches, Anderson clung on to his [pounds sterling]6second-hand suit and 20-year-old Vauxhall Cavalier.

The only 'Rolex' the former utilities research analyst at Dresdner Kleinwortbank has ever owned, he insists, is a [pounds sterling]10 fake he bought on holiday in Turkey.

It wasn't that he didn't join in with the hedonist spend, spend, spend cultureof the Cityor the unsavoury behaviour that went with itbut rather that deep down he struggled with the uneasy thought that he mighthave sold his soul to the devil.

'I always had this nagging doubt at the back of my mind that what I was doingwas somehow wrong,' he says, 'and that I was part of a system that was makingthings worse.' For the past two years, the 35-yearold Cambridge Universitygraduate has assuaged his guilt (while continuing to rake in his six-figurebonuses) by penning an anonymous newspaper column called 'Cityboy' about themonstrous egos, drugtaking, insider dealing and other immoral behaviour thatpervades the nation's financial heartland.

And this week, with the publication of his book, Cityboy: Beer And Loathing InThe Square Mile, Anderson has unmasked himself as the City's whistleblower.

Having built up a rather tidy nest egg to cushion his fallmore than [pounds sterling]3million in allhe has finally jumped ship, ready to dish the dirt on his former colleagues andsome of their more dubious practices.

Many will see it as a bit rich for Anderson to make a few million and then telleveryone what a dreadful place the City is.

But in light of Britain's current credit crunch, his timing couldn't be better.His account of an industry notorious for its lax regulation confirms what wesuspected all along.

'They don't care about anything other than next year's bonus,' he says.

'They don't care about gambling with the money of ordinary people becausethey're making millions. I truly believe the credit crunch is a direct resultof the City's short-term gambling and the bonus culture.' Delve into the murkydepths of the book and London's pernicious financial world reveals itself inall its ugliness. At one stage, Anderson's account takes in a [pounds sterling]25,000private-jet trip to Ibiza where a group of wealthy financiers and traders aremet by a limousine filled with naked prostitutes and cocaine.

In another episode, an evening drink with banking colleagues turns into a nightat a debauched strip club wherein full view of the entire group present some have sex with prostitutes.

There are copious amounts of cocaine and liver-destroying alcohol consumption[pounds sterling]300-a-bottle champagne and whisky at [pounds sterling]100 a shot.

Anderson himself is a bundle of contradictions: on the one hand claiming to be'slightly Left of Trotsky' and ranting about the 'sick and twisted world' heinhabited, on the other admitting: 'I didn't despise it when I was enjoying[pounds sterling]1,000 meals at Le Gavroche.' And it's only fair to point out that he didn'thand in his resignation until his last bonus was safely in his bank. OnDecember 19 last yearbonus dayhe was sitting on a beach in Goa, India, with a margarita in his hand when hemade the call to his boss in London.

He recalls: 'I wasn't sure if he was going to say: "We know you're Cityboy.Goodbye" or "Here's half a million pounds".' Fortunately, it was the latter.

'I know people will call me a hypocrite,' he says. 'I did sell out, but now Iwant to give something back. I wrote the book to expose the nasty element ofthe City and the irreversibly destructive effect it's having on society.

'The whole business world runs on people schmoozing others and usingshareholders' cash for privilege. …

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His Dad's a Labour Peer, His Mum a Missionary, but Geraint Chose a Career in the Square Mile. Now, with Millions under His Belt, He's Revealing What Really Makes the City Tick and Prostitution, Cocaine and Fraud Are the Least of It! Whistleblower: Geraint Anderson
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