Profile: Roots of good conscience: Ken Minton thrives on the vision that lifted him out of the mines to Laporte. John Murray reports

KEN MINTON hasn't forgotten where he came from. 'I suppose I do have quite an emotional attachment to coal-mining, but even in 1960 life didn't seem too bright in the industry.' And so he explains how he shook the dust of a Lancashire pit from his boots and stepped on to a ladder that has taken him to the top of the chemicals industry.

Last week Laporte, where Minton is chief executive, reported on-target profits of pounds 87m, but the City marked the shares down 52p over the week to 633p. Analysts and fund managers were annoyed that gearing had shot up to 53 per cent, against the 40 per cent forecast when Laporte bid for Evode in January. But the company was bullish about prospects, and the swallowing of Evode should put it back in the FT-SE 100 index by the end of the year.

The takeover was a coup - Laporte snatched the glue-maker from the jaws of Wassall, the predatory mini-conglomerate. It was something of a personal triumph for Minton, who managed to convince an initially sceptical City that he had not paid too high a price for Evode.

It was the latest in a series of deals that he has made as part of a strategy to transform Laporte into a high- margin speciality chemicals group.

But Minton does not look or sound like a hard-driving wheeler- dealer. Diminutive and softly spoken, his demeanour is modest, and he has not gone to any trouble to modulate his Lancashire vowels.

Appearances can be deceptive, said Jeremy Chantry, chemicals analyst for Kleinwort Benson. 'Beneath the quiet, unassuming manner there is clearly immense drive and determination,' he said. Once Minton starts talking about Laporte, he shows his livelier side.

He is a reflective man, and he has always combined his business life with a spiritual dimension unusual in a prince of commerce. A committed Roman Catholic, he is regarded as one of that rare breed: the industrialist with a social conscience.

His life might have been very different. Minton left school at 17 after his O-Levels and followed his father into the coal-mines. 'My father was forced to retire early because of a nervous eye complaint and, as the eldest boy, it was natural I should go to work at the mine to augment the family's earnings,' he explained.

He comes from a mining family that stretches back to his great- grandfather; further back are the ancestors who made the porcelain that bears the Minton name - and which he now collects.

He planned to be a mining engineer and was sent to Leeds University by the Coal Board. He graduated in mine surveying as well as engineering with first-class honours.

But then - in an early demonstration of the strategic vision that colleagues say is his best quality - he decided that the mining industry was in terminal decline. It took four months working as a civil engineer for Bury Borough Council for him to realise local government was not the place for him either. Then Unilever beckoned, with places for bright young graduate trainees, and he went on to spend time in France with the company. He cheerfully admits he nearly chose life behind a Parisian bar amid croissants and cafe au lait.

Instead he has pressed forward in industry. He joined Laporte in 1968 as head of research in the general chemicals division. 'I was no chemist, so I had to find something else to offer,' he said. 'Management skills were what I could bring: creating the right environment to get the best out of people.'

He quickly rose to become deputy chairman, then chairman of the division, was on the main board by 1978 and, after being group operations director and managing director, became chief executive in 1986.

Dick Dickinson, soon to retire as Laporte's finance director, put Minton's rise down to two fundamental qualities. 'He has enormous energy and drive, allied to vision. He simply thinks further ahead than anybody else. He also has an exceptional memory for figures and an outstanding understanding of the business.'

Jeremy Chantry said Minton's reputation in the City has grown steadily as he has implemented his programme for change at Laporte.

Others are more sceptical: Martin Evans, chemicals analyst at Hoare Govett, said Laporte has had a tendency to disappoint. He cited the unexpectedly high gearing announced last week. 'Minton is passionately sincere about his company,' Evans said, 'the problem is he sometimes tends to be a bit over-optimistic with his predictions.' But Evans, in common with other analysts, said he believed the Evode deal was good and that Laporte should produce excellent results this year.

Some City observers are harsher. One fund manager said: 'This is really Laporte's last chance. They have promised jam tomorrow for some time and they've got to deliver this year or they'll be caned.'

Minton's problem is that he has had to restructure the business, which entailed spending a lot of money on capital projects and acquisitions. He pointed out that 85 per cent of Laporte's business today was not there 10 years ago. He has moved the company away from bulk chemicals and into speciality products that offer higher added value. He is a margins junkie, and Laporte's are impressive: an average of almost 15 per cent last year.

Despite Minton's obvious passion for Laporte, he is not without other interests. He said two heart attacks in the 1980s made him think deeply about what he was doing with his life.

'I had my first attack two months after I became managing director in 1980. It was largely caused by gross overwork, a lot of stress, a poor diet and no exercise,' he said. 'But I wouldn't have changed things, apart from looking after my physical health. I had a huge task at the company, and I gave that priority. Mother Nature says that is the way you go.

'The problem is that you can get so obsessive that you close your mind to other things and shut off a lot of life. I didn't take holidays and I'm sure the family suffered.

'But I've had a much richer life over the past few years - the early years at Laporte were just particularly bad because there was so much work to be done. That process of catharsis is now more or less over.'

HE HAS turned his attention to changes needed on a wider stage. One preoccupation is the gulf he believes exists between legislators and industry and he is trying to bridge it. He has just been appointed chairman of the Industry and Parliamentary Trust, which aims to deepen MPs' understanding of industrial issues. He is also deputy president of the Centre for Citizenship Studies, set up by Bernard Weatherill, the former Speaker of the Commons, to find ways to encourage people to be better citizens.

South Africa is another passion, and he recently bought a house there. 'I didn't know much about it but went there for the first time three or four years ago on holiday,' he said. 'It was a sobering experience: such a beautiful country, but beset by terrible problems.

'I talked to a lot of people, and as political change started, I got swept up with the idea of what contribution could be made to developing the country. It's such an important economic base for Africa, but it needs the investment, financially and in people and technology.'

In the face of a reputation as a tough manager, his humanity is appealing. Talking about rationalisation at Evode, he is upset as he acknowledges that jobs will be lost.

Although he runs a big business, he is a great believer that economies of scale are often more than offset by the strangling of creativity in large organisations. 'Unorthodoxy is the key to creativity,' he said, adding that he tries to encourage small 'organic' units at Laporte.

Minton is an unorthodox captain of industry, still bewildered by some of the creaking hierarchical structures that persist in business. 'I remember that when I joined Unilever there were seven dining-rooms for different grades at the one small plant I was at,' he said.

'Seven,' he repeats for emphasis, shaking his head with wonder at the foolishness of the world.

(Photograph omitted)