Episode Details

John Stepek is leaving MoneyWeek. 

I’ve known for a while, but as his final day was yesterday and we have just had his leaving drinks, so the implications are just sinking in. 

I first started writing for MoneyWeek in 2006, which means John has been my editor for 16 years. Week in week out, he’s had to plough through my twaddle. I reckon I have written at least 800 Money Mornings in that time (one Money Morning per week for 16 years), though the figure is probably closer to a thousand, as I’ve often written two per week. Plus the stuff I’ve written for the main mag. 

Each Money Morning averages 1,000 words, often more, so I make that close to a million words of mine that John has read, suffered and edited. 

What a saint.  

A happy accident

I’ve been racking my brains as to a memorable and suitable present to buy him, to say thank you. Then it came to me. What more appropriate way of expressing my gratitude than through a Money Morning itself. 

For all our plans, for all “the best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men”, life has a habit of taking the accidental route and so it was with my relationship with John. Although it never went, “gang aft a-gley.” 

Now if John was editing this, he would demand that I explain that Scottish poet Robbie Burns reference. I would say, “everyone knows that quote, we don’t need to explain it.” John would insist we do. And, in order not to patronise those that do know it, I would then find a way of explaining that “gang aft a-gley” means “go wrong” without overtly looking like I am explaining it. The result would be something along the lines of what you’ve just read. 

You now know, if you were in any doubt, that “The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men. Gang aft a-gley” is a quote by Scottish poet Robbie Burns meaning, “even good plans go wrong”, but you don’t feel patronised because I’ve explained it, while apparently talking about something else. 

I learned how to do that through working with John.

In MoneyWeek, of course, usually what needs explaining isn’t a great Scottish poet, but some incomprehensible financial or mining jargon. 

Back to the point. My relationship with both John and MoneyWeek all happened by accident. Back in 2006, as a jobbing comedian and voiceover artist, I had made a bit of money and I was trying to figure out what to do with it. In fact, specifically, I was trying to figure how to turn the pot I had into three or five million quid in order that I could make the musical Kisses on a Postcard happen. 

I didn’t entirely trust the fund managers I had met to achieve the unrealistic and astronomical multiples I was hoping for. So I started a podcast and began interviewing all these clever people I saw talking on the internet, such as Jim Rogers, Jim Dines and James Turk, to see if I could figure out a plan. Commodities and gold in particular seemed the route, and the show was called Commodity Watch Radio. 

One of the people I interviewed was Merryn, who said did I want to write a newsletter about commodities? I said I wasn’t sure I was equipped to do that. She said come into the office and have a chat. In I went to meet Merryn and the then MD Toby Bray. There was also some quiet bloke in the corner, John Stepek. 

We agreed that thrusting me into a newsletter might be a little premature, but John had started this daily email, Money Morning, and perhaps I could start writing, say, one per week and then we’d see how it goes and take it from there? Fine, I agreed.

Here we are 16 years on and it’s still going. A temporary plan became permanent. A bit like Income Tax. 

MoneyWeek’s quiet, consistent rock 

Clarity has always been one of John’s priorities, but also neutrality. “You’re great on the financial stuff and the macro stuff, Dominic, but when you get onto politics, you get ranty. Yo