Gerry Robinson has been called many things over the years - everything from upstart caterer to ruthless profiteer and asset stripper. But one phrase that could be used to describe him is "refreshingly honest" - particularly in relation to his attempt a couple of years back to acquire Rentokil.
Unusually, success eluded the Donegal-born businessman who made his name wheeling and dealing in the City of London.
"It was actually a failure," he says. "Somebody described it as less a hostile takeover and more of a hostile job application. It was one of those things that started in a semi-serious way, went much further than I thought it ever stood a chance of going. That thing nearly came off; it got pretty close."
Effectively, Robinson wanted almost £60 million (€89.17 million) for managing the company in a more effective way. So were critics who said the bid failed because he got too greedy right in their assessment?
"Yes, absolutely," he laughs. "I don't think there is too much doubt about that. It was about trying to couch it in a way that it felt more comfortable for them."
But Robinson says the greedy tag should be considered in light of Rentokil's share performance since his offer was rebuffed. "Look what happened to Rentokil since. It just had its numbers out and the shares have fallen again. For the cost of what it would have been to have got me and a couple of other people on board, they have just blown four times that on the [ recent] share price fall."
Sir Gerry - he was knighted in 2004 - is better known these days for his television exploits than for his days in the City, when he climbed the ranks to become the head of Granada.
Robinson steered the company through a series of mergers, including the hostile takeovers of London Weekend Television and the Forte Hotel Group. He also served as chairman of the Arts Council in England. But starring in the three-part series Can Gerry Robinson Fix the NHS? really brought him into the public eye.
Money is often seen as the cure for the health service rather than fundamental reform of structures, he says.
"It is so simple, in a way," he says. "It is like giving your money to a bunch of kids. If something isn't organised and you throw money at it, your chances of wasting it are practically 100 per cent. But politicians think it is the answer. They think what you have to do is put more money in it and it will all be all right, and very often it has the opposite effect.
"It strikes me as amazing that you don't sort out the organisation first and take a couple of years of going through the pain of making sure it works within the confines it has to work with, and then start funding it up."
Those trying to reform the system would argue that is easier said than done in a service packed with vested interests and not driven by the profit motive.
"It is very important to separate the profit motive from good management because I think they are separable. There are things that can be brilliantly run even when the net effect of them is not to produce a profit, but you have to attract the best managers, you have to pay them and you have to take management seriously in a way that business takes management seriously."
Managing change and performance in organisations and assessing whether management or leadership is the key are topics Robinson will be addressing at the Irish Management Institute next month.
"They are connected but they're not necessarily the same," he says. "The capacity to bring people with you is what leadership is about, but you need to combine that with a reasonable sense of what makes sense for the long run. So there is this kind of judgement involved in management."
Nor is change about cost cuts or major personnel changes, although he personally gained a certain notoriety for ousting David Plowright from Granada.
"Because it was television, it received huge coverage," he says.
"I honestly believe you should have to make very few people changes in an organisation. If you have the wrong person running something, you're doing them no favours and you're not doing the people that work for them any favours if they are not up to it."
A firm proponent of work-life balance before it was fashionable, he rarely uses e-mail and keeps his mobile on silent or switched off. He has little time for the macho business culture of long hours and convoluted management speak when trying to implement change.
"It is about saying to people, this is what we want to achieve, this is your part in it, this is how I'm going to check whether you're doing it or not," he says.
"Honestly, it seems to me to be a very simple thing and it gets confused with a whole load of management bullshit and waffle, which people are very prone to because they want to make management something mysterious and extraordinary."
Robinson has now semi-retired to his native Donegal, but don't expect to see him heading up the Health Service Executive any time soon - or any Government body or private company for that matter.
"I took a very deliberate decision that for me personally Ireland is not about business, so that when I am here I could relax and do what I really wanted to do."