There is a rumour doing the rounds on social media that Rupert Hogg, who resigned as chief executive of Cathay Pacific airline last week, was ordered by the Chinese authorities to submit a list of his employees who had taken part in the extraordinary Hong Kong protests. He provided the list they demanded but it had only one name on it: his own.
Who knows if this superb story — which appeared in a Taiwanese newspaper — is true? Certainly, the British executive was performing well in his job before being suddenly forced from it after just two years. And his resignation, which followed Beijing pressure that airline staff be stopped from joining protests after the high-profile arrest of a pilot, was first announced by China’s state-run television station before the company itself made a statement.
The claim has led to Hogg being hailed as a hero by pro-democracy activists in the region. It would be nice to think this is a true tale, a businessman’s defiant stance reflecting the bravery of the protesters I have seen out on the streets demanding freedom and democracy in the face of Chinese autocracy. For we need corporate icons at this time of immense change. And it would also make a welcome contrast with all the grubby kowtowing seen by other Western business leaders before the Chinese authorities, toeing the Beijing line to preserve their flow of profits.
Their tawdry behaviour has been highly depressing, a reminder that capitalism and morality are not always natural bedfellows. Now we hear of a climate of fear among staff at Cathay Pacific, warned they could be fired if they “support or participate in illegal protests” in a disgusting betrayal by their bosses, who are, admittedly, under fierce assault from Beijing. Unions are urging the company to end “white terror” (acts that create a climate of fear) after the dismissal of the head of a flight attendants’ association. Staff must also endure Chinese searches of electronic devices for evidence of joining demonstrations.
This is an alarming capitulation to political pressure from an autocratic regime. Yet the Cathay Pacific firm is far from alone. Jardine Matheson is a British-listed company run by a billionaire British dynasty that enjoys the fruits of our freedoms, yet it rushed out a statement echoing the Beijing line of condemning violence while praising the police whose brutal response inflamed unruly events on the streets. PwC issued a contrite statement after employees of large accounting firms publicly backed protests, while luxury fashion houses Coach and Versace prostrated themselves in apology before China’s communist rulers after implying Hong Kong is a country.
These firms might say their duty to shareholders and staff is to make money — and that China is a vital and fast-growing market. As Milton Friedman argued, the social responsibility of corporations is to increase profits since, as the Nobel-winning economist argued, free-market capitalism ultimately made the world a better place.
As he wrote in his 1970 New York Times essay: “There is one and only one social responsibility of business — to use its resources and engage in activities designed to increase its profits so long as it stays within the rules of the game, which is to say, engages in open and free competition without deception or fraud.”
Even half a century ago, this was a controversial theory; it has since sparked ceaseless debate and rebuttal. I have sympathy for his view of capitalism as an inherently progressive force. Yet now Friedman’s stance — echoed by all those panicked firms doing Beijing’s bidding — is being challenged from within the world of commerce. For the chief executives of 181 major companies, including many of the world’s best-known brands, are seeking to redefine the role of a corporation.
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