Jozef Imrich, name worthy of Kafka, has his finger on the pulse of any irony of interest and shares his findings to keep you in-the-know with the savviest trend setters and infomaniacs.
''I want to stay as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all kinds of things you can't see from the center.''
-Kurt Vonnegut
An investigation into KPMG has found that the firm systematically mistreated, marginalised and took retaliatory action against anyone who spoke up internally about unethical behaviour, confirming a whistleblower’s allegations about its practices.
The report by consultancy Principia Advisory, released to partners on Friday, also found that a relentless commercial pressure to win work and increase revenue fuelled a culture of systemic internal cheating – driving partners to steal sales credits, under-cost proposals and pressure staff into under-reporting actual hours worked.
A new report has painted a dire picture of KPMG’s culture. Thomas Wielecki
It found there was widespread uncertainty across the firm about how to handle confidential information and that the previous executive team was perceived as insular and resistant to bad news.
The report said that these deep-seated cultural problems had developed despite the firm making a “meaningful investment in systems and processes designed to reinforce its ethical culture”.
But Principia concluded that while the firm had a “substantial ethical culture architecture” around expected behaviour, this system “was sometimes compromised by complexity and fragmentation”.
Principia made 14 recommendations, including that the firm reform the way its board operates to give it more independence, teach partners and staff about ethical decision-making, place more emphasis on ethical behaviour in its performance evaluation systems, and bolster the way it polices conduct.
KPMG chief executive John Sams and chairman Michael Ebeid said they accepted Principia’s findings and would incorporate all the recommendations into the firm’s evolving action plan to reform the way the partnership operates.
The report follows a separate investigation by consultancy Andrews Group on the firm’s treatment of the whistleblower after he raised allegations that audit partners misused confidential client data to win contracts. KPMG has been in crisis since those allegations became public.
That report found the firm systematically mistreated the whistleblower and buried his allegations in an ineffective, conflict-ridden process.
Sams and Ebeid said that Principia had identified a gap between the firm’s stated values and how personnel behave, that ethical issues were “compounded by structural weaknesses in our governance and oversight” and that the “high degree of variability in culture across the firm” led to a reluctance to speak up about bad behaviour.
“We are already taking steps that will help to address these findings – particularly in relation to our governance arrangements – but we fully acknowledge that there is more to do,” they said in a joint statement.
Fears about speaking up
The scandal has led to most of KPMG’s former executive team resigning, including chief executive Andrew Yates, chairman Martin Sheppard, and audit partners Kim Lawry, Paul Rogers and Julian McPherson. Former chief operating officer Eileen Hoggett was sacked.
The Principia report was one of nine external reviews or investigations into aspects of the scandal. As part of its investigation, Principia spoke to almost 500 KPMG partners and staff, surveyed 3400 personnel, reviewed 176 documents and reviewed 14 randomly selected cases from the firm’s whistleblower hotline.
The 69-page report found there was a widespread fear that speaking out about unethical behaviour would lead to negative outcomes.
“During walk-in interviews, we heard recurring reports of adverse consequences that were perceived to be associated with speaking up, including impacts on performance processes, reduced access to work, diminished progression opportunities, reputational harm and deterioration in workplace relationships,” the report stated.
Principia also found the firm’s ethical rules were overly complex and disjointed, making it difficult for partners and staff to understand or apply the rules effectively in day-to-day practice.
“Recurring feedback suggests that the number and variety of [ethics] initiatives launched over time made it difficult for people to see how they connected as a coherent whole or to understand the principles that unified them.”
‘Insular’ leadership
Partners were also critical of the former leadership team as “insular” and which “actively discouraged challenge”.
“We heard recurring accounts of a reluctance to share or receive unwelcome information,” Principia reported. “The evidence supports concern about the quality and independence of challenge within the former senior leadership environment, but not that NEC [national executive committee] members never disagreed or challenged one another.”
Principia also found that KPMG partners and staff felt the firm’s previous leadership “took actions that were increasingly misaligned with the firm’s stated ethical and cultural aspirations and purpose”.
“This gap between what the firm said and what it did shifted behavioural incentives and created a strong signal as to what is expected and valued,” the report stated.
This problem was compounded by “weaknesses in governance and oversight that limited the firm’s ability to identify, challenge and correct misconduct by leaders” and the “high degree of variability in experienced culture across the firm”.
While highly critical of the firm, Principia also complimented aspects of the firm’s culture. The report noted “the great majority of KPMG people are committed to acting with ethics and integrity” and that “KPMG people consistently express[ed] a desire to do the right thing, and to work in a firm that values and supports ethical integrity”.
Principia was first brought in to complete a similar cultural review at KPMG Australia in 2021, after a scandal involving auditors cheating on internal tests.
The Albanese government has been warned that a potential surge of people paying the Australian Taxation Office by credit card without incurring a fee and earning reward points could blow out the cost of a reprieve from a proposed ban on the payment method.
The ATO is trying to negotiate lower fees with credit card companies and the Reserve Bank of Australia for continuing to accept tax bill payments by credit card until June 30 next year after Treasury said it would subsidise a seven-month delay to a ban it had initially proposed from December.
Assistant Treasurer Daniel Mulino. Alex Ellinghausen
Assistant Treasurer Daniel Mulino said the negotiations with card providers were trying to reduce the cost for the ATO, which has warned it faces a $200 million annual cost for absorbing the cost of the RBA’s new prohibitions on surcharges.
The government said on Friday it would grant the ATO extra funding if it pushed back its plan to ban credit cards from December 1 until the end of June 2027, following a fierce small business backlash over cash-flow risks.
“The [budget] costs are partly dependent on ongoing negotiations between the ATO and the credit card companies; those conversations will hopefully yield benefits for the taxpayer,” Mulino said on Monday.
Previously, the ATO charged taxpayers between 0.9 per cent and 1.5 per cent to pay monthly, quarterly and annual PAYG and GST bills by credit cards, including Visa, Mastercard and American Express.
The ATO estimates that only 2 per cent of individuals and 5 per cent of small businesses have been paying their tax bills by credit card.
Industry participants in the payment system warned on Monday that because taxpayers will no longer have to pay a surcharge on their credit card bill and this has received widespread publicity, many more taxpayers could opt to pay via credit card for the next nine months.
“Without these surcharges all these small businesses are able to pay their taxes on credit card and essentially only pay the Tax Office 99 cents on the dollar,” said an observer close to the issue, who spoke on the condition of anonymity.
“If you suddenly take away surcharging, that number could be a lot more.”
The incentive to collect credit card reward points, pay no surcharge and benefit from an interest-free period could be too good to ignore.
“If you’re someone who likes collecting points, paying the surcharge previously may not have been worth it for points,” the source said.
“But now the points become completely free, plus you get between 15 and 45 days interest-free, then that is a no-brainer. Everyone should want to pay their tax via credit card.”
Paying tax bills via credit card usually only made financial sense for small businesses if they pay off the credit card bill within the interest-free period, otherwise they face interest rates of 20 per cent to 25 per cent.
Tax commissioner Rod Heferen said last week the ATO had tried to negotiate lower fees for the ATO with credit card providers, before announcing the ban on card payments.
“Unfortunately, the credit card providers were unable to offer sufficiently low fees to enable the ATO to continue to accept credit cards,” Heferen said in a letter responding to shadow treasurer Tim Wilson.
Mulino’s comments on Monday suggested those efforts were ongoing.
The ATO is also in talks with the RBA about trying to lower the fees it pays to banks and credit card companies.
Large merchants such as Coles and Woolworths do not impose a surcharge and have used their size to negotiate discounted interchange fees with banks and credit card companies of about 0.2 per cent to 0.3 per cent of the transaction value.
These deals are known as strategic merchant agreements and were far cheaper than the up to 0.8 per cent small business merchants paid for interchange fees.
In its reforms accompanying the surcharge ban, the RBA reduced the cap on the interchange fee from 0.80 per cent to 0.30 per cent for consumer cards but did not impose caps on scheme fees, although it did seek more transparency around them.
Payments by a merchant or government department comprise three fees: a “scheme fee” imposed by Visa or Mastercard, the “interchange fee” which goes to the card issuing bank and the fee to the payment service provider such as Square or Tyro.
Furthermore, for corporate credit cards, the RBA maintained the 0.8 per cent interchange fee cap. The additional revenue banks can earn from issuing corporate cards allows them to fund generous points offers for business customers.
Minister for Regional Development Kristy McBain said the RBA took the right step in banning credit card surcharges for consumers that were costing consumers $1.6 billion a year.
“But they needed to take the next step, and that was to ban the on-charging to small businesses of these point-of-sale terminals,” she said.
Banks should foot the bill, she said.
“I mean, businesses are already paying a range of account-keeping fees and fees to banks, which are making billions of dollars in profit. They shouldn’t be charging for these point-of-sale machines, which is what the banks have told them they want to institute now.
“I think the banks need to take a good hard look at themselves here and make sure that they’re not passing those costs on to consumers.”
A Visa spokeswoman said: “We look forward to further discussions with the ATO to facilitate the ongoing usage of credit cards by small businesses for the payment of tax obligations.”
John Kehoe is The Australian Financial Review’s economics editor at Parliament House, Canberra. He writes on economics, politics and business. John was Washington correspondent covering Donald Trump’s first election. He joined the AFR in 2008 from Treasury. Connect with John on Twitter. Email John at jkehoe@afr.
1 season German 🇩🇪 Explores Vladimir Putin's rise to power in St Petersburg, one of the most dangerous cities in the 1990s, and how his network has allowed him to stay in power for a quarter of a century.
Two part documentary series The Godfather of St. Petersburg screens on SBS2.
Putin, President of the Russian Federation, has been in power for a quarter of a century. But how did he get there? The Godfather of St. Petersburg tells the story of Putin’s rise in one of the world’s most dangerous cities of the 1990s. As deputy mayor and power broker, he became the second most powerful man in the city. In a time of brutal feuds between rival criminal gangs, he forged a network of intelligence and mafia connections: a foundation for Russia’s future power elite, which left a clear trail of corruption and violence on its way to the top.
The two-part series is based on exclusive access and sources, eyewitness accounts, and previously unseen film footage. It reveals how Vladimir Putin wove a dense web that was later able to permeate and control an entire state.
Episode One: In the early 1990s, KGB agent Vladimir Putin returns to St. Petersburg. He quickly rises to become deputy mayor to Anatoly Sobchak – loyal, efficient, and ambitious. When the city’s food supply collapses, Putin presents a program: valuable raw materials will be bartered for food. But no food arrives; instead, the proceeds disappear. When Putin comes under investigation by a congressional investigation committee, everything is at stake for him.
BERLIN, Oct 9 (Reuters) - Germany's former spy chief August Hanning, who has been placed under arrest for suspected espionage, had longstanding contacts to a former senior Chinese general, Spiegel magazine reported…
Central Ukraine: He does not claim to be Russia’s brightest spy.
Alexander had really wanted the job, though. He was born in Ukraine but believed in Russia. And it was hard getting by on his shifts at McDonald’s. So when two Russian operatives approached him with the offer of a piecework spying gig, he jumped.
He was in France at the time, he said. The Russians wanted compromising material on a Western government official. Some of what Alexander did was real field espionage, like seeing where the official lived. A lot was Google searches. Alexander didn’t have much need for disguises.
Spies still play an important role even as the war becomes defined by robotic eyes in the sky. Both sides have more weapons than ever. Old-fashioned human spying helps them find targets.GREG NEWINGTON
“I had a pair of black sunglasses, but I rarely wore them. Only when the sun was shining,” he said wryly.
Alexander’s work changed when Russia invaded Ukraine in 2022. He joined a Facebook group for foreigners enlisting in the Ukrainian army. He gained other members’ trust. On trips to Ukraine, he reported to Russia the location of Ukrainian forces, their planned assault operations and their personal information. His actions, he said, led to soldiers’ deaths.
Then it all caught up with him.
Driving through northern Ukraine, Alexander was stopped at a checkpoint. A guard asked to see his phone. He had forgotten to delete a message to his Russian boss.
I met Alexander on a bright summer day in a meeting room of Prison Colony No. 122 in central Ukraine, where he will remain for the foreseeable future after pleading guilty in a Ukrainian court to the charges against him, including high treason.
It is impossible to corroborate everything he told me, though parts of his story could be confirmed through Ukrainian court documents and interviews with Ukrainian officials.
I had received a call from a shadowy contact saying that Alexander was open to talking. The Ukrainian government has arranged throughout the war for journalists to talk to Russian prisoners. This, however, would be my first time knowingly meeting a Russian spy.
Alexander, 42, wore a worn-out gray baseball cap, sweatpants and a tracksuit jacket with white stripes along the sleeves. He looked straight into my eyes with a playful yet penetrating stare. He leaned back leisurely in his chair, oozing self-confidence. Now and again, he smiled at a military officer who was in the room for security reasons.
I wanted to make sure that Alexander knew what he was doing in deciding to sit down with me. “Do you realise,” I asked, “that what you tell me will be published in an article and that it will not necessarily be a positive portrait of you?”
The last part seemed to surprise him. “Why is that?” he answered.
Alexander is proud of being a Russian spy. As far as I could tell, he just wanted the world to know his story, though he said he did not want his last name published to protect his family. He kept asking me if I was really from The New York Times. Maybe Russia would remember him, he said, and ask that he be included in a prisoner exchange.
There are 2570 spies for Russia in Ukrainian prisons, according to Yevhen Pikalov, the deputy justice minister in Ukraine. Ninety-nine per cent are Ukrainian citizens. Alexander, who moved to Israel as a young child, is both Ukrainian and Israeli. He is the only such spy imprisoned in Ukraine, Pikalov said.
Spies still play an important role even as the war becomes defined by robotic eyes in the sky. Both sides have more weapons than ever. Old-fashioned human spying helps them find targets.
There are a few categories of spies, said Viktor Yahun, a former deputy chair of Ukraine’s main domestic security agency.
Top-level ones are carefully controlled and rarely uncovered, he said. Catching one every six months counts as success.
Then there are lower-level spies recruited for money. Ukraine captures about 120 of those a year, according to Yahun.
These spies are a bit like the drones that both countries deploy — inexpensive to develop and produced in bulk. They are often juvenile delinquents, drunks or disgruntled soldiers recruited online for small sums, said Sean Wiswesser, a former CIA station chief who spent much of his career working in the former Soviet Union.
Alexander appeared to belong to a middle category. He seemed motivated by ideology, a supporter of Russia’s effort to control Ukraine and restore Moscow’s power and influence in Eastern Europe. No more than a dozen such agents are caught each year.
But ultimately, like all but the most valuable spies, they, too, are expendable, Wiswesser said.
Alexander said he had served in the Israeli army and left in 2011. He refused to describe the work he did before the two Russians approached him in France.
There are 2570 spies for Russia in Ukrainian prisons. Ninety-nine percent are Ukrainian citizens.
The Israeli Embassy in Ukraine and the Israeli Defence and Foreign Affairs ministries in Jerusalem did not answer requests for comment on Alexander.
The Russians, he said, proceeded slowly with him. The first time they interviewed him, they asked only simple questions, observing his behaviour and trying to determine his motivation.
“I told them my ideology,” he said. “First of all, to work on the side of truth. Russia is the truth for me. So, yeah, I count myself, so to say, part of the Russian world.”
Although he was born in Ukraine, most of his family members live in Russia. He said he felt alienated while living in Israel and in Western Europe, and wanted to return to his roots. Russian intelligence agencies recruit extensively in the Russian exile community, experts say.
In his early work in Europe, Alexander was assigned to dig up dirt on a business leader. The man turned out to be squeaky clean. He declared every penny he earned to the tax authorities, never cheated on his wife and was always home for dinner, Alexander found.
“I’ll tell you, honestly, these people are annoying,” Alexander said.
Still, the pay was good, he said: about €5000 a month (roughly $8,015).
When Russia started its full-scale war against Ukraine, Alexander wrote in online chat groups for foreign fighters that he wanted to join the Ukrainian military. He never did, but after befriending the foreigners, he travelled to Ukraine to meet with them. He said he gave them advice, including on how to handle problems with their commanders.
He kept at his assigned tasks for more than two years, until September 10, 2024. On that day, Alexander loaded his gray Citroën with a box of pistol ammunition and set off towards the Russian border in the northern Ukrainian region of Kharkiv. His goal was to trick foreign fighters into taking part in a sabotage operation that was actually a trap.
Instead he stumbled into a trap himself.
Alexander never thought that a military guard at a checkpoint would ask him to open his phone. This very thorough guard found a photograph that had been sent to Russia. It showed a passport for a soldier fighting for Ukraine.
“He stuck his nose into something he shouldn’t have,” Alexander said angrily about the checkpoint officer, breathing out cigarette smoke into an already very smoky room, stripes of sunlight hanging in the haze.
He said he had just one regret in life.
“If I could go back,” he said, “the only thing I’d change would be to delete that photo.”
Natalia Yermak, Michael Schwirtz and Nataliia Novosolova contributed reporting.
Russian President Vladimir Putin has two secret sons whom he keeps hidden from sight, reported an online investigation project.
The boys, Ivan, nine, and Vladimir Jr, five, live mostly in isolation, with "companies owned by friends of the Russian leader" taking care of their needs, said the Dossier Center, which "tracks the criminal activity of various people associated with the Kremlin", according to its founder Mikhail Khodorkovsky.
The boys' mother is said to be former Olympic rhythmic gymnast Alina Kabaeva, although, said Forbes, both she and Putin have denied any "romantic ties" for more than a decade. However, Dossier claimed their relationship began "as early as 2008".
'A life of isolation and secrecy'
Newsweek added that Ivan and Vladimir are said to "live a life of isolation and secrecy" and see their parents only rarely. They travel by "armoured trains, private jets and yachts", under the protection of Russia's Federal Protective Service, and have documents that conceal their identities.
Neither of the boys attend school and instead, said The Sun, have private classes in "Putin's palaces – like the royal children of Russian tsars".
Claiming they are being "groomed" to succeed Putin, the newspaper added that the "pampered boys" were learning English as well as German.
Putin, who has "publicly acknowledged" having daughters with his ex-wife Lyudmila Putin, said Forbes, keeps a "tight grip" on information about his personal life, said The Telegraph.
However, he made a "rare remark" during a trip to a secondary school in the Russian city of Kyzyl, continued the newspaper, quoting Putin as saying: "Some of my family members, the little ones, speak Chinese too – they speak it fluently."
His daughters, Maria Vorontsova and Katerina Tikhonova, are "believed to both be approaching the age of 40", and it is thought he has "at least" three grandchildren. As well as the reports of his alleged sons, there are claims that Putin has a third adult daughter named Luiza Rozova with "former cleaner-turned-millionaire" Svetlana Krivonogikh.
Dossier reported that Ivan has told his teachers and guards that when he was born, Putin said: "Hurray! Finally! A boy!," said The Moscow Times. It also said that Putin's elder son was born in Lugano, Switzerland, while Vladimir was "born in the spring of 2019 in Moscow". Their father allegedly chose both locations.
Disney, personal trainers and gymnastics
Highlighting parts from Dossier's investigation, the site said that Ivan was "obsessed" with Disney cartoons and films, a passion "likely disliked" by the Russian President, who has "stated his preference for Soviet-made cartoons on multiple occasions".
As well as private tutors, the boys are said to have personal trainers and Ivan has competed in several artistic gymnastics competitions, continued the Moscow Times, adding that the report described his results as "not promising".
The Dossier Center was founded in November 2017 by Khodorkovsky – a "former oligarch" jailed for accusing Russian officials of corruption, said The Times – almost four years after he was released from prison. Its aim, according to Khodorkovsky's website, is to uncover the "criminal organisation that operates from within the Kremlin" and bring it to justice.