Me and the counsellor (judge)

His statements reminded me of a personal experience I had forty years ago. In the 1980s, I lived in London, where I owned and managed several companies with business partners, primarily in the real estate sector. Our offices were located near the Churchill Hotel, in what had once been the private residence of the wealthy Portman family, who still own all the properties surrounding the square that bears their name.

The building had four floors. My late friend Yaqoub Al-Ghunaim and I occupied the ground floor and invested in the remaining floors. One day, a tenant renting office space in the building asked to see me. He complained about the lack of toilet paper and soap in the office restrooms. I explained that I had been away from the UK and that the cleaning company might have overlooked the matter during my absence.

I explained to the complainant: Mr. Gold, that we were serious businessmen who had come to the UK as investors and established companies with a capital of three million pounds. Mr. Gold apologized, assuring me that he had never intended to offend me or question my credibility. About a week later, a Value Added Tax (VAT) inspector visited our office to review our records and assess our tax compliance. I reiterated that we were serious businessmen, that our company operated in real estate with a capital of three million pounds, and that we were not subject to VAT. He left the office satisfied.

Before the end of the month, a general tax inspector visited the office. I repeated the same explanation and provided him with all the accounting records. Fortunately, he did not examine them. Instead, he simply had a cup of coffee and left, saying he would return at the beginning of the new year. A few weeks later, a general meeting of the company was scheduled, and the partners, most of whom were Kuwaitis, arrived in London to attend. I asked the company’s accountant, Philip, who was Jewish, to prepare the annual budget and other reports and leave them on my desk for review when I returned from lunch. It was almost 5:00 pm when I was shocked to discover a serious error in the company’s financial statements.

The company’s capital was listed as £1.5 million rather than £3 million. I immediately called the accountant, but he did not answer. I then called his wife and asked to speak with him about an urgent matter. She explained that Philip was a devout Jew and that using the telephone on the Sabbath was forbidden. I outlined the problem and asked her to speak with him and get back to me. Half an hour later, his wife called and briefly explained each partner’s share, confirming that the company’s capital was indeed £1.5 million, not £3 million. I realized the seriousness of my mistake, which could have landed me in trouble with the tax inspector. In an attempt to project an image of credibility and professionalism, I had inadvertently told the building’s tenant, the VAT inspector, and the tax inspector that we were serious investors, repeatedly citing a capital of “three million pounds” to impress them. It seems I had come to believe my own claim, and I could have found myself in a very difficult situation had any of the inspectors asked to examine the company’s records. Perhaps our consultant found himself in a similar predicament. With good intentions, he may have adopted the title of “judge” to create a favorable impression on his listeners. Through repeatedly presenting himself in this way, he may eventually have come to believe his own claim, just as I had come to believe, forty years ago, that our company’s capital was three million pounds.