No offence, Sir Philip, but Arcadia needs to prioritise business over personality

Listening to the radio the other morning, I was trying to imagine the faces of the advisers to Sir Philip Green and his Arcadia fashion retailing group. For months now, Green has maintained an extremely low profile – by his standards, anyway. He hasn’t been seen in Britain this year; he’s hardly photographed, and if he is, he’s not posing but someone has grabbed a picture of him near his home in Monaco.

Press interventions have been kept to a minimum – a guarded quote here, another one there. But nothing much, no big interviews, not anything remotely incendiary. He won’t have been staying away from journalists, of course. If I know Green, and I had many dealings with him down the years, he will still have been contacting those people he likes to chat with, and believes he can trust.

It’s in his DNA, he won’t be forced away. He likes to believe he can handle his own public relations, can manage his reputation, that he has such strong contacts with the media, with reporters and editors, that he can get his messages across.

There was evidence of that direct approach on Thursday when he spoke to Simon Jack, the BBC’s business editor, on the Today programme on Radio 4. The previous evening, Green had finally, and just, struck a deal with his creditors. His stores would not be going into administration, the company’s property landlords had agreed to cut their rents – Arcadia had a lifeline.

It was clear that Green and Jack knew each other, that they’d spoken in the past. On the radio, he seemed relaxed, buoyant almost. This, don’t forget, was a rare public appearance – we’d not heard from the tycoon in months. Not since allegations of bullying and sexual abuse surfaced against him – claims he denies. But he had a positive reason to go on air: Arcadia could now move on, and the retailer could put his business troubles at least, behind him.

He had cause as well to show some humility – he may argue the property folk had got him over a barrel and that they should lower their demands, but they’d also displayed a substantial degree of flexibility, generosity even, in reaching a settlement with him. Arcadia, with its brands of Topshop, Topman, Dorothy Perkins, Wallis and Miss Selfridge, and its 18,000 employees could breathe more easily.

Indeed, for the first few minutes that’s how he came across. Sure, he sounded gruff, but that’s his manner. Urbane and polished he is not; Green isn’t the sort to indulge in diplomatic murmurs. His style is front-facing, straight to the point. Nevertheless, he was serious and measured, saying that Arcadia could now get on and develop. Then, in answer to an entirely predictable question, he lost it.

Asked why the public no longer trust him, he replied, it was the fault of the media, “because you lot make them all f******* jealous, that’s why – it’s quite basic. These people writing all this s*** couldn’t spell fifty quid.”

They weren’t asterisks of course, but bleeps, live over breakfast in countless family kitchens. The snarling, swearing Green was back – or rather he had not gone away. This Green can’t see what he has ever done to provoke widespread opprobrium. He sold his BHS chain to a bloke who could not take on the shops, and could not repair the pension deficit – but Green paid money in, didn’t he?

No matter, he only did so after an almighty row that saw him appear before MPs, and famously become involved in a nasty spat with a committee member who Green accused of staring at him. There was his lifestyle, the repeated images of him flaunting his bling, and partying, aboard his super-yacht. Why not? He’d earned it, what he did with his cash was up to him.

Similarly, the criticism over the basing of himself and his family in Monaco, and the transferring of the business into his wife’s name. It did mean he paid less tax, but it was not illegal – everything was entirely above board. Then came the more lurid personal accusations, which he refutes. Apparently, the media was to blame for the harmful coverage. Not him, not ever.

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When he contacted favoured journalists in the past, Green would like to insist that their conversation was “off the record”. Live radio, by contrast, is very much on the record – there is no censorship, no hiding place.

He may have talked to Jack before, but that may have been in happier times, and it might not have been live on Radio 4. It’s not as if, though, Jack’s questioning was surprising – if he’d not probed Green about his fall from grace, Jack would have been accused of running scared and being too cosy with the businessman. Green and his team must have known it was quite likely he would be asked something about the media stories, away from the creditors’ deal.

As it was, his bad-tempered response undid all the good work, and showed that, despite remaining quiet, and, regardless of the debt he now owed to those who had decided to slash their bills and had stopped Arcadia falling into administration, it was the same old Green. Nothing had altered.

If Arcadia is to survive, and to begin to garner favourable publicity, it must put distance between the company and its founder. It’s clear that Green does not take advice, that’s if he even seeks it. Someone now needs to go a step further, and take Green’s phone away, before he can do himself, and the firm, yet more damage.

Chris Blackhurst is a former editor of The Independent, and director of C|T|F Partners, the campaigns, reputational, crisis, and strategic communications advisory firm