Banking on a non-vintage year

THE SATURDAY PROFILE/Lochlann Quinn: A collector of art, a bon vivant and a good head to have around in a crisis when others…

THE SATURDAY PROFILE/Lochlann Quinn: A collector of art, a bon vivant and a good head to have around in a crisis when others are losing theirs - Joe Humphreys profiles Lochlann Quinn, chairman of Allied Irish Bank

When Lochlann Quinn sighed last Thursday on Morning Ireland, "It's been a very tough time ... a very tough time," one got the feeling he wasn't just speaking for the bank of which he is chairman.

Since the Allfirst fraud was first uncovered last month, Quinn - a most private businessman - was forced out of the boardroom and in front of the cameras to explain how $691 million (€789 million) could have gone missing from the company's books without its knowledge. As captain of the AIB ship, his task was not just to place a steady hand on the tiller, but to be seen to do so. Paramount was the need to restore confidence in a bank in which he himself said he had lost a degree of confidence "because I didn't believe that this could happen and it has happened".

Quinn first learned of the fraud the morning after returning to Dublin from New York where, ironically, he had been lecturing business leaders at the World Economic Forum on the need for companies to introduce more stringent financial controls in the wake of the Enron collapse.

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His early handling of the crisis in those first few days was widely praised.

While speculation reigned over the possible extent of the losses, he staked his reputation on them not exceeding $750 million, and in the process helped to dampen fears that the fraud would engulf the group as a whole. By indicating the bank believed there was internal collusion in the fraud, and by refusing initially to give unconditional support to his chief executive Michael Buckley, he also helped to portray the bank as one willing to get to the bottom of the matter regardless of the consequences for its senior executives.

"He handled it extraordinarily well," says Gillian Bowler, president of the Institute of Directors, an organisation which monitors the performance of semi-State and private sector boards.

"Lochlann's style is not to run for cover or hide in the shrubs. He's straightforward. What you see is what you get. In fact, he has demonstrated very admirably what you need in a chairman when a crisis occurs. A chairman is not dealing with day-to-day issues. He's there for strategic vision and to find a good chief executive but also to ensure that when things go wrong you have a cool, clear head, someone who doesn't panic when a microphone is put before him. You don't want someone who is style over substance." She adds: "Lochlann was perfect for that situation because he has a direct personality and commands respect."

THE eldest son of a grocer, Quinn grew up in the most middle-class of surroundings in Dublin where his father moved after being forced out of Newry, Co Down because of his Republican politics. He was one of six children and played rugby at Blackrock College. He studied commerce at University College Dublin, graduating to pursue a career in chartered accountancy. He was a partner at Arthur Andersen's Dublin audit practice, through which he became involved in Glen Dimplex, a company which he now part-owns with his friend Martin Naughton, and for which he acts as deputy chairman.

Quinn, whose younger brothers include Labour Party leader, Ruairí Quinn, is perhaps as well known, however, for his lavish lifestyle. His passions include golf, sports cars, wine and art, which together give him something of an aristocratic air.

Last year, he splashed out €45 million on a Bordeaux vineyard, Château de Fieuzal, which supplies him with around 200,000 bottles of boutique wines a year. His impressive collection of 19th and 20th century Irish paintings adorn the walls of the Merrion Hotel, the 146-bedroom premises which he opened four years ago as a refuge for businessmen looking to stay at the top end of the market.

The five-star hotel is now widely considered the finest in Ireland. It contains, among other things, Patrick Guilbaud's restaurant, in which Quinn also has a stake. The celebrated French chef was persuaded to move to Ireland partly due to Quinn's encouragement. Like the hotel, the establishment is decorated with Quinn's Paul Henrys, Louis Le Brocquys and Roderic O'Conors.

Quinn's role in the arts includes his sponsorship of the Glen Dimplex Awards. A former board member of the Irish Museum of Modern Art, he last year donated €635,000 to the National Gallery's Millennium Wing, along with a 17th century Dutch painting under the Government's tax credit donor scheme.

Quinn is also a director of the Michael Smurfit Graduate School of Business and has donated €5 million to a new undergraduate facility at Belfield to be known as the Quinn School of Business.

Unlike many of the Republic's super-rich, Quinn has chosen not to be a tax exile but rather lives in Dublin with his wife, Brenda. They have six children, four of whom followed in their father's footsteps by studying at UCD.

Quinn is said to have a small circle of friends and remains close to his siblings whom he hosts at seasonal get-togethers at his holiday home in Roundstone, Connemara. The siblings were brought closer together last year when their mother, Julia, died.

Quinn, who turned 60 late last year, has avoided engaging publicly in politics, although he is known to hold strong views on the subject. "The house they grew up in was very political. Politics was meat and drink to all of them," said one person close to the family, who added: "their get-togethers are reminiscent of the dinner conversation in the Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man."

Quinn's first cousin, Sen Feargal Quinn, certainly remembers it that way. "We had two in our family and they had six, and every meal in their family was a hot political debate. I quite envied that."

Of his cousin's qualities, the Superquinn boss adds: "Lochlann has a tremendous ability to focus on what he is involved in, whether that's his paintings, or wine, or business."

Quinn's strong views on business matters are often aired at corporate fora. He was among a small cohort of Irish businessman to warn against rushing into the European monetary union. He also advised against over-ambitious investment in dot.com industries.

His Pragmatism was recently seen in his handling of the AIB Dirt evasion controversy. Quinn described the bank's decision to settle with the Revenue Commissioners for €44.5 million, three times AIB's estimated liability, as the "sensible" thing to do.

"We still believe we had an amnesty," he told the Public Accounts Committee, "but it was not in anyone's interest, either the bank's, customers' or taxpayers', to spend another three or four years fighting it in court."

Another aspect of the man is his desire for privacy. He doesn't like to be photographed and avoids self-promotion in the media. The low-profile policy is a similar one to that adopted by Glen Dimplex, which must be unique among major corporations in not hiring a public relations officer. "Public companies do need a certain image," he once explained, but because Glen Dimplex was a private company, with only 2 per cent of its sales in Ireland, there was little to gain from courting the local press.

Just how the company has grown into one of the world's largest suppliers of electrical appliances, with estimated annual sales of around $1 billion, is a source of some puzzlement.

While steadily acquiring smaller production units throughout Europe, the company never once had to issue shares, or raise capital by some other means which would expose the books to public scrutiny.

As a result, no one quite knows how much the company is worth.

Nor is there a reliable estimate for Quinn's personal wealth, although The Sunday Times recently priced him at over €170 million on its annual rich list. Quinn's 26 per cent share in Glen Dimplex provides the bulk of his value.

As to his future with AIB, of which he has been chairman since 1996, it all depends on whether his efforts to ring-fence the Allfirst crisis prove successful. His offer of resignation this week - which was turned down by the board of the bank - was a genuine one. According to those close to him, he would not hang around if he felt he was no longer wanted.

As Ms Bowler, who once served with Quinn on a State board, remarked: "Lochlann would not be doing the job for financial reward."

With AIB paying its chairman €198,000 a year for his services, that's really saying something.