URSABLOG: Caught By A Shower of Passing Spray

I’ve just got in from London having attended the Marine Money Ship Finance Forum. This particular event doesn’t usually feature in my professional calendar, but I had been invited by my friend Jamie Freeland to participate in a panel discussion he was moderating, and it seemed rude not to. It was a very interesting day, and most of the presentations and discussions were informative and thought-provoking. I was glad I went.

That said, nothing really new came out of the conference: the market is good, there is a lot of money sloshing around the system and – of course – there are a lot of very interesting things in AI and other new technology that will change our world as we know it, but nobody could really put their fingers on what that actually was, or what it would actually change.

Our panel discussion – on the gap between ship values, and current earnings – went off well enough too, although it is hard to tease out the nuances of a very complicated theme across all market sectors in the space of half an hour; regular readers will know I use endless blogs to find slightly different ways to express the same opinion on the markets over and over again. I was happy enough that my own slightly off-the-cuff recommendation – short VLCCs, if possible – was backed up later by the data of a separate presentation. I am not usually in favour of algorithm-fuelled data crunching, but this time I was more than happy to be vindicated.

My fellow panellists – Alexandra Alatari and Kenneth Thu – were excellent, and were able to field the subtle curve balls Jamie lobbed their way with far more deftness and grace than I could. I think our slot was well enough received, although it’s always hard to tell whether people pass favourable comments out of politeness or genuine admiration. I think I prefer the honest criticism of people close enough I can trust, but hard truths sometimes cut deep.

But the event is also about networking, schmoozing, and later on, boozing. I caught up with some old friends, colleagues, and students, and made new acquaintances – and maybe new friends – as the day went on. I will continue to treat with some suspicion and scepticism the way banks and other financial institutions view the world of shipping – I did work for the HSBC group for 12 years after all – but many of the things I heard and observed will stay with me.

But the one thing that will stick in my mind for a far longer time happened in the toilets. I had gone downstairs to take a leak before my appearance on the panel to avoid discomfort and distraction. I made my way to the marble and gilt urinals, presented myself, face on – adjusting myself appropriately – when something to the right caught my eye, something surprising enough to distract me almost to disaster.

A man was standing there, in the process of de-ballasting, and in his left hand he was holding his smartphone, reading avidly, occasionally scrolling with his thumb. Forgive me if I sound prudish, uncosmopolitan, or naively behind the times, but I could not get over my, well what? Surprise? Perplexity? Distaste? Disgust? There, at the stand, under the Grosvenor House Hotel’s bright but subtle and expensive lighting was a man, well-dressed (to the left, one assumes), in a tailored navy-blue suit, reading away on his mobile phone apparently without a care in the world.

A number of questions immediately sprang to mind. Was it that important that he had to read whatever it was immediately or was it force of habit? Did he need to distract himself by reading so his bladder could in relax and release the stream before him? Was this a performance for the benefit of lesser mortals – like me – around him, showing us he was so important that there was absolutely no second free in his day? Was this a cock fight taken to a different level, or the high finance version of the game young boys used to play – and probably still do – to see who could piss the highest up the wall?

This was before considering questions of hygiene. How did he shake, tuck in and zip up afterwards? One handed? (Good trick if you can do it.) Did he wash his hands and his mobile afterwards? Did he leave his mobile on the table at lunch? Does he let his girlfriend, wife or partner use his phone? His children?

Why didn’t he go and sit down in one of the stalls and scroll two-handed to his heart’s content? Was he lacking a necessary audience? Or did he find the cubicles – somewhat perversely perhaps – unhygienic?

I didn’t get a chance to ask him – I left the scene of the crime with some alacrity. But after lunch these thoughts came back to me, especially when I saw him amongst the participants of another panel; their discussions went in one ear and out the other as I scrutinised the culprit further.

Am I being a prude? I don’t think so, and the fact that I am still thinking about it shows it has struck a chord. After some further pause for reflection, I have come to three conclusions.

Firstly, mobiles, social media and tech have entered all areas of our lives, and not only are they dominant, they are habit changing as well as habit forming. We apparently can’t live without them and they intrude into every waking moment. This – if only for the state of men’s shoes – is not a good thing. Will we really fall behind in the relentless race of life if we don’t take time to relieve ourselves in peace and quiet, or at least to look at where we are pointing?

Secondly, conferences or other events where friendly industry competitors gather to share views and network are full of undercurrents of envy, competitiveness, flirtation – for power, money, lust or attention – or just plain and simple showing off. This can make people tense and on edge, and they may well do or say something stupid which is nevertheless revealing. However we approach them, these are forums for performance and criticism, where what is said and done is less important than how it is said and how it is done, and therefore how you are remembered.

Finally, this man who was next to me in the urinals will probably carry on doing what he did because people like me – however shocked they are – will never say anything to correct such behaviour, perhaps because we’re not entirely sure ourselves we are on the side of the right and normal. Saying something may invite defensiveness and unpleasantness – especially in public toilets, even those inside a Mayfair Hotel – and may just reveal ourselves as narrow-minded backward provincials. Or unfashionable. Or – perhaps because we are not in thrall to the latest influencers on the social media we are not following – we simply don’t know what is socially acceptable behaviour these days, except that we instinctively feel it is wrong. And we’re too scared to find out.

Or maybe it really is none of my business anyway. The man wasn’t doing any harm to anyone else, and probably wouldn’t give a shit anyway, even if he was challenged.

And yet the scene, and my reaction to it, continues to niggle away at me, the way that awkward social dilemmas in big Mayfair hotels only can, at least to this Englishman. And maybe I made a terrible faux pas – professional, financial, personal – that I am unaware of? It’s entirely possible of course, and who am I to set myself up as the final word on male toilet etiquette? That – like most of what passes for smart business discourse at conferences – would be just pissing in the wind.

Simon Ward