What happens when you promote a man who sleeps four hours a night to chief executive of a top property and construction consultancies? Well your profits rise by 50 per cent six months after a management buyout. Sam Metcalf meets the almost superhuman Lance Taylor of Rider Levett Bucknall.
Lance Taylor, chief executive of Rider Levett Bucknall in the UK, strides round his office as though he lives there. Well, he nearly does; he admits to waking up at 4.30am and not leaving work until 7.30pm.
"This is one of the most profitable offices in the UK," he says, proudly. Which doesn't surprise me, because, despite the size of this property and construction consultancy these days, its offices are somewhat modest. Well, as modest as an office in Millennium Point in Birmingham can be.
I don't think I've met a man more in love with his job than Taylor. Seriously. At times during the interview I become a little frightened at what he's going to say next. Will he break down crying at the passion he feels for Rider Levett Bucknall? Will he take me in his arms and force me to memorise a company brochure. I'm only half jokingx85
Taylor took over the role of chief executive in August 2007, replacing his colleague, and he insists his friend, Simon Burchill, who had only been in the job 18 months. Taylor had a guiding hand in the merger of Rider, Levett and that famous old West Midlands construction name Bucknall Austin into one solid powerhouse of a firm. So maybe it's easy to see why he's so passionate about his job.
"When we were going through the merger, we always had one eye on a succession plan," he says. "Gradually, the shareholders came to me and said "you're the right man to lead the company'. I've got no axe to grind with Simon at all; we're still great friends and he's a fabulous man. People often say we even look the same."
If Taylor was my boss I'd do whatever he told me and I'd do it pretty damn quick. But he insists that he can't and hasn't changed the company in six short months. "I'm all about gradually changing the company into something fabulous," he says. "I want to build something fantastic here and really put Birmingham on the map. We want to be world beaters together."
Taylor is adamant that wherever he goes in the world that he always manages to shout about the West Midlands. He calls the place home.
"I'm so proud to be from the West Midlands," he says. "The area has a unique manufacturing history and I want to be seen as doing my bit to extend the industrial heritage of the region. I owe this community so much and I'm going to make sure I put something back."
You wouldn't be surprised after reading this that Taylor also takes a lead role in the sales and marketing operations at the Birmingham office. Indeed, take a look at RLB's website and you'll see that before his elevation to chief executive there were about a dozen press releases issued. With him at the helm this increased fourfold. I begin to wonder if he ever sleeps at allx85
I'm not about to suggest that Taylor runs the Birmingham office with a Stalinist zeal, but he's all about five- year plans. RLB has a five-year plan in progress at the moment, but what if it all goes wrong. Is there a Plan B?
"I plan to finish our five-year plan in year four," he says. "When you're in this industry you have to play cricket off the front foot. I go by the rule of answering every question as "Yes, ifx85', not "No, butx85'. I'm totally confident that our plan of five years will be achieved. I don't need a Plan B; I'm not preparing myself for failure. I never do."
But this man of steel who gets up in the middle of the night to do half an hour on his rowing machine must have some fears, surely? The year ahead could be a tough one for his industry, after all.
No way, says Taylor: "Our aim is to fight the commoditisation of quantity surveying and we can do this by utilising our fabulous people. We want to keep what we've got here and expand it outwards to a global market."
By his admission, Taylor never really expected to be where he is now. He's always wanted it, of course, but if Bucknall was still a standalone company it would just be coming to the end of its first five-year plan by now.
"Our aim in year three was never to go global," he says. "But we learnt about Rider and Levett, and with them we moved Bucknall on. We're now all about service provision rather than growth for growth's sake. We can look at the models of KPMG, for example, and this can make us stronger, I think."
Talk then turns to Taylor's life away from the office - or what there is of it. He's a proud man, it seems, and one who I think genuinely wants to promote the West Midlands by using his company to show what can be done.
He admits readily that without his wife Ellie's support (his one and only girlfriend and now his wife, he casually lets slip) he wouldn't be where he is today. A lot of people say this, but not many of them mean it. I think Taylor really, really means it.
He says: "My family has always been very supportive. My wife's family were busy people and so she's used to me being away at the office for long periods of the day.
"But we're the strongest team you can imagine. We have two boys who are away at weekday boarding school, but who we dearly love and Ellie is a speech pathologist and she's very good at it. I think that helps immensely."
Taylor is managing that rare thing: to successfully maintain a busy working life and marry it with what sounds like a very happy family life. How many of us can say that?
He's even using a charity he's set up with his wife called Access the World as part of RLB's corporate social responsibility programme. So far it's raised over £3160,000. That's big money when you're used to hearing of companies with more clout than RLB getting all excited about donating a few quid to Children In Need once a year.
It might seem, then, that Taylor has achieved more than most in 18 months in his new job. But, typically, he's not satisfied. When asked if he's still going to be there in ten years, he becomes almost outraged that I could suggest otherwise, saying: "Yes, of course! I want us to be huge. We've got something really special here that I can hardly put into words."
And then he goes a bit transcendental on me. "Actually, what we have here is a state of mind and that state of mind has transformed into a global one. It originated from here - from the Birmingham office," he says.
I mentally assume the lotus position and contemplate this. Either all of Taylor's staff in Birmingham have been brainwashed into a sinister quantity surveying cult, or they're extremely able and hard working. It seems it's the latter, because Taylor says RLB is getting recognition as an excellent employer:
"We've been given a Guardian award for being one of the country's top employers and in 2008 we hope to break into the Times Top 100 UK employers."
If it's brainwashing, it's working. But I suspect RLB might just be a great company to work for because of Taylor's seemingly endless enthusiasm for his life's work.
And when that life's work is over, how does this all-action West Midlands hero want to be remembered? He gives a distinctly Taylor-esque answer, saying: "I want people to remember me as someone who gave everything. If you go for gold, you might get bronze - but if you go for bronze, you'll probably get nothing."
Aptly, RLB has been appointed quantity surveyor for the Olympics in London in four years. Taylor for gold in 2012? You bet.