St James's Place's army of eat-what-you-kill advisers are the reason you buy the shares, if not the products

St James was Jesus’s fiery, go-getting disciple, by all accounts. That’s why he was venerated by the armies of the Spanish crusade.

Similar characteristics seem to have been adopted by the troops at his namesake, the wealth manager St James’s Place. No matter what the weather, SJP’s battalion of advisers seem to bring in heaps of new business.

They’ll hate me for saying it, but that’s largely because, while they’re technically advisers, they’re really salesmen. Good, well trained salesmen, but salesmen nonetheless.

And because they’re so good, SJP charges seemingly high fees for selling SJP’s products no matter how much negative publicity they incur.

So, when SJP retained Neil Woodford as the manager of its High Income fund long after the rest of the market realised he was a busted flush, investors’ money kept coming in.

When The Sunday Times revealed in gory detail SJP’s outrageous pay and perks culture — featuring annual cruises for top performers — the money still kept rolling.

Now, despite Covid making markets super-risky, assets under management are up 6.3% this year. Net inflows — the difference between investors putting more cash in and taking cash out — are a positive 3.6%.

The secret sauce is this; SJP advisers are all self-employed. They sell SJP products and use its systems, but they are each standalone, eat-what-you-kill businesses. Like Domino's franchisees, but with pensions, not pizzas.

That breeds profit-driven entrepreneurs and explains why the SJP machine works through thick and thin. Personally, it would put me off using their services, but customer loyalty is strong (perhaps aided by some hefty cancellation fees).

As Charlton Illingworth analysts put it, SJP's shares are down 22% since February, yet assets under management are up 6%.

So, buy the shares, if not the products.