Burger chief out of YPO order; Odds against betting agency

Hash Tayeh addressing protesters outside the Coburg North Burgertory Picture: Olivia Jenkins

Crisis averted, it seems, within Melbourne’s hush-hush YPO forum, the secret society of young leaders and trust-fund beneficiaries and baby rich-­listers all carrying on like Rockefellers.

Geopolitics doesn’t usually figure in their monthly chapter meetings, where the gathered slouch hangdog and take turns pouring their hearts out with toe-curling confessions – usually about the wives, the kids and the deadweight directors on the board.

That all flipped after October 7, when terrorist attacks on southern Israel led to protest ­activity and resurgent anti-Semitism across the Western capitals. Especially in Melbourne, where a prominent voice at pro-Palestinian rallies became YPO insider Hash Tayeh, CEO of the Burgertory fast-food chain and a card-carrying member of the YPO Yarra branch – well, until recently.

We reported in May that Tayeh’s public remarks had started to worry a few of the fellas in the YPO brotherhood, to the point where entreaties were made to the greater leadership on whether Tayeh had breached the YPO code of conduct.

Hash Tayeh. Picture: Olivia Jenkins

Not so, they learned, and this has since led to Yarra branch members privately tossing up whether to boot Tayeh from the group with a forced vote.

Much hand-wringing all round, and we hear their finger was very close to pushing that button … but ultimately it wasn’t necessary. Turns out Tayeh lapsed on paying his membership fees and this provided a safer cover to get rid of him – and now he’s gone.

Not that this has turned him into some, ah, rootless cosmopolitan; branchless he may be on the YPO domestic continent, but he’s still a member of the global forum, or so we’re told. We asked Tayeh if he might consider joining another chapter, but he didn’t deign us with a response.

Bets off the mark

Local bookie Pointsbet and its CEO Sam Swanell clearly don’t have a pulse on the political vibrations emanating out of Canberra, where the Albanese government is about to announce a seismic, industry-wide overhaul to gambling ads.

Two recent Pointsbet howlers are worth mentioning.

During an investor call on April 24, Swanell took a question on how the company might address further increases to point of consumption taxes (applied to bets made by customers). His reply, all swaggering confidence, was a fatal prediction. He said: “We don’t see an environment where there’s further increases of point of consumption taxes.”

Sadly for Swanell, the NSW government announced just six weeks later that it would consider a reform proposal to increase PoC taxes from 15 per cent to 20 per cent.

That was boob number one. Number two can be found in the company’s quarterly activities report, released last month, where Pointsbet laid out a strategy against the incoming reforms. One magic bullet, as Pointsbet sees it, will be to prioritise social and digital media spending over, say, TV advertisements.

Pointsbet chief executive Sam Swanell. Picture: Stuart McEvoy

This would be fine, except for the government’s very recent indications that it’s seeking a total ban on gambling ads going anywhere near these online forums.

You’d think with the recruitment of former Queensland premier Rob Borbidge, now a soothsayer at lobby shop Govstrat, Pointsbet might have been able to figure out the barest of government intention.

And yet the missteps continue. Last week, the company partnered with competitor Sportsbet (the only outfit still trying to keep gambling ads on TV) to insist that jersey sponsorship be banned.

Does the government even care about jersey sponsorship? Not very much. All indications are that ads on clothing are not in the minister’s gun sights.

A matter for Swanell and his people, really, but perhaps they might consider the services of a weathercock instead of an adviser? At least it can tell, with some reliability, which way the wind is blowing.

Jade Gas’s drift

So weird how deals signed off in the badlands of the market seem to morph over time.

We speak of energy minnow Jade Gas Holdings, which wants to tap Mongolian coal seams for gas to supply the country’s mining industry.

In early June, Jade announced that Chinese outfit DWK – better known as Yan’an Drilling Wellking Energy Technology Service Company Limited – would be named as the lead contractor to drill a series of production wells, with rigs earmarked to be on site by the end of the month.

DWK was selected, according to Jade, based on its “successful production drilling” of more than 600 wells in the “Qinshui basin in China”, with DWK boss Elton Dong boasting his team possessed more than 10 years’ experience.

But just six weeks later, on July 15, Jade made a second announcement that DWK would pay the upfront costs of the drilling – saving Jade plenty – in exchange for a share of future revenue. But this came with an unusual clarification, too.

Jade appeared to concede that DWK was actually registered under a different name in China, and also that it had been established in December 2022, jarring with any suggestion of a prosperous 10-year track record, as flagged by Dong.

Per Jade’s statement: “For the avoidance of doubt, the company selected DWK based on its understanding that DWK’s team has extensive drilling experience working on wells across China (including within the Qinshui basin) and with entities other than DWK.”

And amazingly, that initial 600 well-production claim bears an eerie similarity to that of another Chinese oil and gas services company, Greka, a former employer of both Dong and Jade non-executive director Ian Wang.

Expertise often moves between companies – but equipment? You can see why more than a few Jade shareholders have been left wondering when DWK’s rigs will actually mobilise to site.

Digging the pay dirt

ASX-listed Deterra Royalties, with its royalty rights over BHP’s massive South Flank iron ore mine, is rapidly becoming the most expensive post office box in the country.

Deterra runs a simple business. Bountiful royalty cheques arrive from the big miner and these are divided equally among the shareholders and mailed out accordingly (less a few dollarydoos for taxes and admin).

But Deterra is eyeing ambitions to develop a “leading, globally diversified royalty portfolio”, which means a lot more tyre kicking. And that can prove costly – testing the quality of future products cost Deterra $13.1m last financial year, or about 5.5 per cent of its royalty income.

The company’s MD and postmaster Julian Andrews took home $1.6m for his role in this work, while former CFO Brendan Ryan – now the business development lead – received $1.1m for his heroic acts of dividend distribution.

To be fair, Deterra’s annual report makes clear that their pay is pegged to performance hurdles. These include improving “access to high-quality investment deal-flow” (read: kicking tyres), delivering sustainable earnings growth (or praying that the iron ore price stays up) and meeting a few ESG targets (because that’s always fashionable).

Not that we’re knocking Deterra. Is it really so bad for the ASX, the world’s largest mining stock exchange, to have a royalty business in direct competition with the majors like Franco-Nevada and Wheaton Precious Metals?

Granted, deals have been thin on the ground so far – excepting, of course, for Deterra’s $276m takeover offer for UK-listed Trident Royalties, which shareholders appear to hate – they tanked the stock when the deal was announced.

And if there’s salt to be poured on the wound it’s in the transaction costs for the Trident deal. These amounted to $19m – and that’s on top of Deterra’s existing corporate and business development costs – or roughly 7 per cent of the deal’s total.