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Obituary: Lord Kearton

Norman Wooding
Tuesday 28 July 1992 23:02 BST
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Christopher Frank Kearton, industrialist, born 17 February 1911, staff of ICI 1933-40, Atomic Energy Project 1940-45, OBE 1945, staff of Courtaulds 1946-75, Director 1952-75, Deputy Chairman 1961-64, Chairman 1964-75, FRS 1961, Kt 1966, created 1970 Baron Kearton, Chairman and Chief Executive British National Oil Corporation 1976-79, Chancellor Bath University 1980-92, married 1936 Agnes Brander (two sons, two daughters), died Stoke Mandeville Buckinghamshire 2 July 1992.

THE MANY tributes to Lord Kearton following his death have dwelt upon his achievements in industry and in public life. These were, by any yardstick, outstanding. But for those who worked for him and with him there are other attributes by which he will be long remembered.

Many accounts cite ICI's attempted bid for Courtaulds as the time when Frank Kearton emerged as the future leader of Courtaulds. In fact his reputation for dynamism, technical imagination and capacity for sustained effort at a level few could match were established during his years with ICI in the 1930s and his work with the Manhattan Project during the war.

That record of achievement led to his appointment by Courtaulds in 1946 to form and lead a department of chemical engineering - a key move in the policy initiated by Sir Wilfrid Freeman and AH Wilson for the rebuilding of Courtaulds' man-made fibre business after the war.

With typical gusto Kearton recruited a team of outstanding chemical engineers and set them to work on harnessing new technologies in Courtaulds' chemical and fibre operations.

So successful was he in driving this team that within a few years he was directing not only the chemical engineering effort - which had spread its influence throughout the whole business - but also an increasingly large part of the research, manufacturing and commercial operations of the company. His constant search for the speedy application of new ideas, for short-cutting traditional hierarchical procedures and, above all, for action, caused much friction, especially at board level - well documented in the third volume of DC Coleman's history of the company. But to the younger generation he was both a breath of fresh air and an inspiration.

His methods were often arbitrary and his judgements could be harsh. But few would dissent from the view that he was throughout motivated by the desire to build the company into a world force in its chosen fields. The cardinal sin was not to act. Actions which turned out to be mistakes - even big ones - were the subject of sharp personal criticism. Few who experienced them, and there were few who reached executive positions who did not experience them, were uninfluenced by the inspiration which accompanied the rebuke.

Thus he created a group of managers and technocrats who built a viscose factory using revolutionary technology at Mobile in the US; who rebuilt the decrepit British Celanese businesses; who used Courtaulds' research to create the most successful acrylic fibre business - Courtelle - in the world; who, to the dismay of many of his board colleagues, initiated the company's business with the then Soviet Union and eastern Europe which was later so successful; who confounded the pundits by successfully establishing novel pulp plants in South Africa and Swaziland; who took the first steps which were to lead to the world-beating paint business, now a major part of the company; and who embarked on a massive programme of acquisitions and investment in the textile industry - today Courtaulds Textiles plc.

Of course he made mistakes, and with the benefit of hindsight it is easy to criticise some of his decisions. Anyone who set out to do what he did in the industrial and economic environment of the time, 1950 to the early 1970s, was bound to be faulted. That was part of his credo. He built a company that was, and is, the envy of its competitors. And he went on to repeat that success in many other fields. In the Industrial Reorganisation Corporation, in British National Oil Corporation, and, in a different way, in his impact upon a whole range of other bodies in science, technology and education.

His life and work in Courtaulds was the foundation of much of his wider impact on national and international affairs. His actions were driven by impatience, by the search for results, by his inexhaustible energy, by his deeply held conviction of the importance of manufacturing in the national economy, and by his fascination with people as individuals.

Alert to the weaknesses of individuals, he was constantly searching for the good points of all with whom he came into contact. This was one of the sources of his capacity to inspire. It was manifested in many different ways, some of them very personal. His wife and family were everything to him. Nothing took priority over them, even in his most demanding activities. Their successes, their problems, their aspirations, were the centre of his life. And he assumed that the family was the centrepiece for everyone.

Many of the facets of this extraordinary man were displayed in an incident in Russia in the early 1960s shortly before he became Chairman of Courtaulds. One of the factories which Courtaulds supplied to Russia had run into serious problems. Its size and state-of-the-art technology was too much for the Russians to cope with in the green-field complex in which it was built, near a farming village on the Volga. A major claim for compensation was made. Kearton brushed this aside and sent out a team to find the way to make the plant work. For him there was only one issue that met the needs of the customer and of Courtaulds: success.

They were joined later by experts from Moscow and by Kearton himself. The meetings were old-style Soviet pattern, repeatedly postponed, interminable, full of unexpected allegations, and confrontational. No progress was made. The participants moved to Moscow, where the whole process was repeated, now with the Minister of Chemical Industry himself taking part. The same pattern was followed until Kearton blew up. At this he and Kostandov, the Minister, whose temperament and style were very similar to Kearton's, went into private discussion from which emerged agreement for Courtaulds to send experienced managers and technologists who were given a free hand to put the plant right. In the tense situation which had been reached, amid suspicion on all sides, Kearton salvaged what was rapidly becoming a disaster. His record in other dealings with Kostandov, and the force of his personality, were such that he carried conviction against the vociferous and undoubtedly sincere criticisms of Kostandov's own senior experts. The factory was put right and later became a showpiece.

At the end of the final day in a week of exhausting events Kearton took all his colleagues out to dinner. The conversation was relaxed, humorous, and personal. The restaurant was one of the large Moscow showplaces. At a centre table was a party of old men having a cheerful and noisy dinner. Kearton, learning that it was a group of pensioners who had once worked together, ordered champagne for them and for his own table in celebration. On the return journey on the following day he had only two concerns: to ensure that everyone had proper arrangements for getting home; and the pleasure of seeing a party of old men together.

Many who read this will know how sincere was that interest. Much of such spare time as he had in the last years was spent in a voluminous personal correspondence with many of those with whom he had worked over the years in so many different fields, applauding their successes, comforting them in misfortune, supporting their interests, always urging them on.

(Photograph omitted)

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