Helena Morrissey is one of the City’s most recognisable figures. Appointed chief executive of Newton Investment Management at 35, she more than doubled assets under management over the following 15 years.
Now chair of Fidelis and of the Eton College endowment, the investor and campaigner joined Wilfred Frost on The Master Investor Podcast. In a conversation that ranged from gilt markets to free speech, she offered a brisk diagnosis of the UK’s competitiveness—and some clear advice for leaders and investors alike.
You made your name as a bond investor before stepping up to run Newton. What’s your snapshot of the G7 bond markets today? Are we flirting with a proper dislocation at the long end?
I worry about complacency. Fiscal room for manoeuvre is thin across the developed world, and the toolkit that helped during the financial crisis—large‑scale QE, in particular—can’t be mobilised in the same way again. Yields have risen sharply but mostly in an orderly fashion; we’ve not had many “cliff‑edge” moments outside Japan. That doesn’t mean we’re safe. If market participants decide they will only finance governments at much higher rates, the spiral can be vicious. We’re vulnerable to that kind of shift in sentiment.
You’ve long argued for central‑bank independence. Is it under threat?
Independence matters precisely because electoral cycles are short and the temptation for political expediency is constant. I was managing gilts in the run‑up to the 1997 election; the day Gordon Brown granted the Bank of England operational independence, the market staged one of its biggest rallies. That said, independence doesn’t mean operating in a vacuum. Treasury, central bank and broader government policy must work in concert—something that’s been lacking at times, notably in the United States.
You’ve spoken about a career‑defining trade in gilts before 1997. What did it teach you?
Contrarian discipline. I began buying long gilts when yields were above 8% because the market had already priced in the worst. For a while I was “wrong”—colleagues told me so daily—but I kept retesting the analysis. We held for years and took profits when yields dipped below 3%. The lesson was to keep your head when all around are losing theirs—apologies to Rudyard Kipling—and to seize those rare moments when the risk‑reward is truly asymmetric.
At 35 you were asked to run Newton, with five young children at home and no formal management training. How did you bridge from portfolio management to leadership?
Some skills translate: bringing people with you, creating space for challenge, focusing the team on the signal not the noise. But fund managers rarely receive any help with management. Firms often assume that if you can run money you can run people. That’s wrong. At Newton we learned to separate responsibilities—keeping investment authority with one person while giving people management to someone more suited to it. The result was better for clients and for culture.
You founded the 30% Club in 2010 to improve gender balance on boards. What problem were you trying to solve—and what did you learn?
After the financial crisis, it was obvious that groupthink was dangerous. Back then, fewer than one in ten UK board seats were held by women. The 30% target wasn’t arbitrary; it reflects “critical mass”—the point at which a minority voice stops feeling token and starts to influence outcomes. Progress since has come mainly through voluntary action, not quotas. But DEI efforts did go awry in some places. Jargon and finger‑pointing made initiatives feel exclusionary. The purpose, always, should be better decisions through cognitive diversity—and equal opportunity for talent.
Free speech is back on the boardroom agenda, often in fraught circumstances. How should leaders navigate it?
By modelling confident civility. You cannot build innovative organisations if people are afraid to ask awkward questions or express an unpopular view. We’ve allowed disagreement to become personalised. Leaders have to restate a simple compact: robust debate is welcome; ad hominem attacks are not. Inclusion should mean everyone with something to contribute has a voice, not that one group is swapped for another.
London’s standing as a financial centre is a perennial concern. Where are we now—and what would you do?
We’re living off stored energy. London still has superb people and a global outlook, but the risk‑reward for challenging the status quo has deteriorated. There’s too much process and too little permission to try, err and improve. Two priorities. In the short term, signal—through both tax and tone—that the UK wants growth‑creators to live and build here. The personal tax burden and everyday frictions push talent abroad. Longer term, make the regulators’ new competitiveness objective real. That doesn’t mean a return to “light touch” but does mean timely, predictable decisions and a culture that enables innovation rather than smothering it.
You were interviewed for the governorship of the Bank of England. Would you do it if asked?
It would be an honour in any era. My broader point, though, is about how we appoint leaders. When selection panels are drawn from the same small circle, you inevitably replicate the status quo. If you want different outcomes, widen the aperture—both in who you consider and how you weigh evidence of leadership.
Technology is powering markets again—and polarising them. Are we in bubble territory?
Some readings feel bubbly: big‑cap moves that imply perfect outcomes, minimal execution risk and no competition. I’m optimistic on innovation and on capitalism’s ability to allocate capital to great ideas. But nothing goes up in a straight line. Geopolitics is fraught; supply chains are being rewired; the cost of capital is no longer near zero. Investors should keep a weather eye on valuation and concentration risk.
You’ve been candid about the obstacles you faced early on—as a woman without City connections, returning from maternity leave, and as the only woman on a 16‑strong team. What changed?
Culture. We no longer think it’s acceptable to entertain clients in ways that exclude colleagues. We talk more openly about money, careers and choices. But progress isn’t guaranteed. We must keep re‑stating the commercial rationale for diversity and the human case for inclusion—and focus on what works inside teams, not on glossy pledges.
What’s your one piece of career advice?
“Leap before you look.” It runs counter to the usual counsel, but too many talented people—particularly women—research the decision to death and never take the chance. At 59 I meet far more peers who regret not trying than those who regret trying and failing. Calculated risk‑taking is part of any fulfilling career.
And for investors?
The Kipling rule: keep your head. Don’t panic into fear or soar into hubris. Build diversified, steady exposure—and then be ready to act decisively in the handful of moments that matter. Those trades don’t come often, but they define careers.
Finally, what do you want Britain’s business community to do differently this year?
Talk less about decline and more about delivery. Hire for potential. Reward intelligent risk. And rebuild the habit of disagreeing well. If we can do that—inside firms and in public life—we’ll make better decisions and grow faster. That, in the end, is the point.
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‘Leap before you look’: Baroness Morrissey on markets, leadership and free speech