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Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Interview: Rupert Heseltine (Evening Standard)

By David Rowan

THE official line at Haymarket Publishing is that Michael Heseltine is "immortal". But if the founder of Britain's biggest privately owned publisher ever does step down, the Hon Rupert Heseltine, his low-profile 37-year-old son, is the man lined up to take over a vast empire stretching from Autocar to What Hi-Fi?.

Over five decades, Heseltine Senior, 72, has built Haymarket into a global powerhouse, turning over almost £200 million a year from more than 100 magazines and scores of live events. Last month, it added Media Week to a portfolio that includes Stuff, Management Today, and lucrative specialist titles such as Renal & Urology News. It made £24 million profit in 2003, yet as a family-owned business has no City investors to satisfy. No wonder Rupert, during his swift 11-year rise through the firm, has never felt the need to face the press.

Until now. With Media Week and three other Quantum titles in the bag, and ambitious plans to double the company's size in a decade, Heseltine Junior has finally agreed to grant his first interview. Actually, he recalls in his Hammersmith office, he did talk to BBC radio at the age of seven about his famous father - but, he adds wincing, "I sounded a complete prat".

But why, having so evidently been groomed to inherit one of the UK's media giants, has Rupert been so keen to remain in the shadows? "I've intentionally kept my head down as it would be too easy to be seen as a spoilt brat," he replies in a tone that combines nervousness and natural self-deprecation. "I hope I'm not that." Besides, unlike quoted businesses, Haymarket has no need to charm the stock market with PR. "You can let the brands do the shouting," he says triumphantly. "And as Michael has always had a fantastic relationship with the bank, they've always been willing to help."

"Michael" - Lord Heseltine - remains group chairman, in the office for three days a week. But while daughters Annabel and Alexandra remain indirectly involved through a family trust, Rupert has been given increasing responsibility since being brought in after his father's 1993 heart attack. He has overseen business development and run magazine launches, and was recently put in charge of the profitable events-andexhibitions division, with 122 staff. Is he now simply biding time until the big job comes up?

"I don't know if there's a 'What to do with Rupert' file," he says, a little embarrassed. "But if you're talking about the future, Michael tells me he's immortal, so it's not an issue. And if I look at the senior management, all of these guys are on long-term contracts. Succession is hypothetical, really."

YES, but he's clearly the heir apparent, isn't he? "It's a family-owned company," he says carefully. "I'm the son of a politician on that answer, I'm afraid. But I do love this company."

After Harrow and Oxford Poly, he had hoped to become a photographer, but "wasn't very good". So he sold advertising for Robert Maxwell's business magazines. "I wasn't a truly aggressive salesman, someone who could scream down the phone," he recalls. Nor, being dyslexic, did he take easily to writing for magazines. But when his father had his heart attack, he knew that Haymarket held his future. "There was suddenly this horrible 'what if ' question. So I worked on BBC Gardeners' World Live, on a car hifi magazine, a wine-and-spirit trade title. Then on the launches of Revolution and PR Week USA."

His company loyalty extends to his own family: he met his wife, Sarah, at Haymarket when she worked on a wine-tasting event and he was ad manager for Car Hi-Fi?. They live in London and Oxfordshire with children aged two and five months. He confides that they plan for two more, and that he insists on changing nappies as "life is about teamwork".

He may share his father's height and (cropped) blond locks, but Rupert comes across less as the hard-nosed publishing impresario than an enthusiastic if sensitive man who seems acutely conscious of his personal advantages. "Maybe they do judge me," he says when asked if it was difficult coming in as the boss's son. "I could spend a lot of time worrying about it. But you've got to find a balance between worrying and getting your head down."

As for living in the shadow of his father's achievements, "you could worry about that, too. But he will achieve his things in life and I will achieve mine. He didn't work on the launch of PR Week in America." He pauses. "Ah, he did, actually... But he didn't physically sell advertising on Revolution or Gramophone. I did that. And if I increased circulation by five per cent, that will be my achievement."

Does Michael nod through all his proposals? "Absolutely not. But I see him every weekend, talk to him twice a week. I'm exceedingly proud of him, and we're friends. I'm going fishing with him tomorrow in Russia." Sounds competitive. "It might be." He laughs.

Spitting Image puppets of Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher look down from his office bookshelf. So does Rupert share his father's political interests? "Ha ha ha. No. No." No ambitions, then, to stand for Parliament and save the Conservatives? He pauses. "No, though I do think about it. But it's not what I'm about." No preference, then, for party leader? "Whoever they elect, however they elect him," he says with a smile. "I'm not here to talk politics. Though I have some issues that I feel utterly passionate about, such as Iraq... "

He appears less driven by more immediate political concerns. Last month, his father publicly condemned controversial Office of Fair Trading proposals to reform magazine distribution. Rupert, when asked for his views, deflects the question saying that he has been too busy to look into it. It is hard to imagine a prospective IPC or Emap CEO taking such a casual approach to the industry's most immediate challenge.

HIS views of Haymarket's future plans are clearer. The acquisition of the Quantum titles "completes the circle for us" and, alongside Marketing, PR Week and Campaign, lets Haymarket "serve the [media] industry better". Will the titles' staff be cut? "No," he replies. "I can 99.99 per cent say that's not the case." As for why Haymarket turned down Press Gazette, another Quantum title, he will only say: "It's not an area that we're active in."

He describes the company's expansion strategy as "opportunist" - actively shopping for titles (such as the BBC's Eve) that take Haymarket into new markets, and then rolling out international editions. "We weren't in women's publishing, but with Eve we acquired a team who understood that sector. It's very exciting. We've already had some initial licensing discussions. Eve goes very well in Muslim countries."

Wouldn't a stock-market flotation be a simpler way to finance growth? The company has been valued in the high hundreds of millions. "We've made it very clear this is a family-owned company, and the staff like that," he says firmly. "They know whose money's behind it. They see the passion in Michael's eyes. We're not going to sell it. The door's shut. And I hope it will remain private for ever."

Yet in today's market, doesn't that favour the publicly owned Emaps with their £16 million launch budgets? "We haven't done badly," he reflects. "When I joined the company in 1994, we were 800 people. We're now 2,000. We were in two countries; we're now in seven. We're probably publishing's best kept secret. But we like it that way."

As for his own editorial vision, he is toying with a monthly magazine for men in their late thirties. "There's nothing for someone of my age," he says. "I don't want to be a 'father', I want to be a man who's going to be 38 in July, who buy cars, kitchens, everything." He thinks aloud. "I probably want a slightly older GQ, actually. I read GQ, but I'm not very stylish."

Another pause. "I worry that I'm quite dull, really."

(Evening Standard, June 8 2005)

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