I am relishing being busy across everything! We set out with a clear ambition to build something genuinely different, and that only happens if care, attention and a disruptive spirit are applied to every aspect of what we do.
Hiring is always critical, but never more so than in the early days of a business. We’re looking for a very specific combination: technical expertise is a given, but we also want people who want to push the envelope – be closer to clients, genuinely embrace the role technology can play, do the best work of their careers and have a real say in how they do it.
That technical excellence, while essential, is rarely what separates the best from the rest. What makes the difference is relationships, how you deliver advice and your ability to translate complexity into something a client can act on.
The other lesson I would pass on is one about people. You don’t need to tell brilliant people what to do: you need to get out of their way and let them be brilliant.
Staying true to our ambition to reset the client-adviser relationship is something we hold ourselves to constantly. The temptation as you grow is to converge on the familiar; recognising and resisting that pressure is crucial.
First, we’re conflict-free. The audit relationships that define the Big Four, while important, create restrictions on what they can say and to whom. We have none of that. We can give clients candid, direct advice.
Second, our work is genuinely partner-led. Too many talented advisers spend too much of their time bogged down in process and bureaucracy. We are building a firm where that changes – modern, focused, and powered by senior expertise, where the best people are empowered to give clear, actionable advice.
Third, our infrastructure isn’t inherited from the past; it’s built for today. That means we can embed technology and AI in ways that inform how we work, rather than bolting it onto a legacy model.
We are building a tax advisory business: no audit, no conflicts, just tax. To compete at the level we have set for ourselves, breadth in tax matters as much as strength and depth. Where a client’s needs go beyond tax, we will work with firms that are the best there is in those disciplines, while we focus on being the best we can be in tax.
There’s no denying that tax is, in many ways, an ideal discipline for AI disruption. At some point there will be a realisation that tax is a trust business. An LLM can construct an argument for whatever conclusion you want, but judgement and the ability to give seasoned advice based on a deep understanding of a client’s situation are not so easily replicated. I can see a divergence emerging over the next five years: a growing set of tasks where automation is almost a baseline assumption, and a new premium on the skills that set the best advisers apart.
I am extraordinarily accident-prone. I’ve broken so many bones and had so many weird injuries, some of them sports-related, some of them just bad luck (my dad dropped a fireplace on my head once). My surgeon eventually told me to stop playing rugby. I chose to listen – eventually.
I am relishing being busy across everything! We set out with a clear ambition to build something genuinely different, and that only happens if care, attention and a disruptive spirit are applied to every aspect of what we do.
Hiring is always critical, but never more so than in the early days of a business. We’re looking for a very specific combination: technical expertise is a given, but we also want people who want to push the envelope – be closer to clients, genuinely embrace the role technology can play, do the best work of their careers and have a real say in how they do it.
That technical excellence, while essential, is rarely what separates the best from the rest. What makes the difference is relationships, how you deliver advice and your ability to translate complexity into something a client can act on.
The other lesson I would pass on is one about people. You don’t need to tell brilliant people what to do: you need to get out of their way and let them be brilliant.
Staying true to our ambition to reset the client-adviser relationship is something we hold ourselves to constantly. The temptation as you grow is to converge on the familiar; recognising and resisting that pressure is crucial.
First, we’re conflict-free. The audit relationships that define the Big Four, while important, create restrictions on what they can say and to whom. We have none of that. We can give clients candid, direct advice.
Second, our work is genuinely partner-led. Too many talented advisers spend too much of their time bogged down in process and bureaucracy. We are building a firm where that changes – modern, focused, and powered by senior expertise, where the best people are empowered to give clear, actionable advice.
Third, our infrastructure isn’t inherited from the past; it’s built for today. That means we can embed technology and AI in ways that inform how we work, rather than bolting it onto a legacy model.
We are building a tax advisory business: no audit, no conflicts, just tax. To compete at the level we have set for ourselves, breadth in tax matters as much as strength and depth. Where a client’s needs go beyond tax, we will work with firms that are the best there is in those disciplines, while we focus on being the best we can be in tax.
There’s no denying that tax is, in many ways, an ideal discipline for AI disruption. At some point there will be a realisation that tax is a trust business. An LLM can construct an argument for whatever conclusion you want, but judgement and the ability to give seasoned advice based on a deep understanding of a client’s situation are not so easily replicated. I can see a divergence emerging over the next five years: a growing set of tasks where automation is almost a baseline assumption, and a new premium on the skills that set the best advisers apart.
I am extraordinarily accident-prone. I’ve broken so many bones and had so many weird injuries, some of them sports-related, some of them just bad luck (my dad dropped a fireplace on my head once). My surgeon eventually told me to stop playing rugby. I chose to listen – eventually.






