The Road to Damascus - Christopher Hayes

The provision of a fully expensed car is what first attracted me to loss adjusting. I had moved to the UK from Malta in 1990 and a serious financial miscalculation had reduced us from being a two car family to a two bus pass one. The allure of a car was not, of course, the only or indeed, prime motivator. I had come to the UK to join an insurer as an underwriter in the flawed conviction that it would further my career. It didn't take long to realise that a company that was still using the old fire tariffs for underwriting purposes (and which still required the conversion of the rates from old pence to new!) was not quite on the innovative or cutting edge of the market.

I'd seen an advertisement in the local paper for a junior loss adjuster and up to that time had never given the profession much thought. It had always struck me as having something of the esoteric about it. I'd had a close working relationship with both of the Thomas Howell seconded adjusters posted to Malta in the 80s and had held them in some professional awe. They were (to my impressionable young mind) veritable sages. They always seemed capable of settling the most difficult claims and to have the solutions to perplexing technical problems. The more thought I gave it the more I came round to thinking that it might be an interesting and challenging career shift...a shift that, in my mind's eye, seemed to glide effortlessly on four wheels. As it happened, I didn’t get the job or any other for several more months for a reason that was to heavily influence my decision years later to seek qualification.

All those who may have pored over their atlases in school (as I used to do when I wished to escape the drudgery of a physics lesson) might have quite easily missed Malta. It is the simplest country for a cartographer to depict...a dot usually suffices to represent an island nation smaller than the Isle of Wight (but with more than twice the population). Malta is the smallest member country of the EU and was, a million years ago, seriously disadvantaged by the inundation of the Mediterranean Basin. In my search for alternative employment, the reaction I received from most prospective employers assumed the nature of a leitmotif. Many were incredulous that we have a thriving insurance industry and tended to discount the depth of experience one could possibly obtain from a small market.

My break finally came toward the end of 1990 when I was interviewed and offered a job by the Thomas Howell Group whom I joined in the first week of the New Year. Within four weeks of beginning life as the greenest of adjusters temperatures plummeted and by the end of the week escape of water claims started flooding in. I found the first six months of my life as an adjuster tougher and more stressful than I care to remember. Quite apart from getting lost in the wilds of Sussex (map reading is not an essential skill one feels compelled to acquire in Malta and this was some years before the advent of mobile telephony and GPS), I was wholly unfamiliar with building methods and pricing and suspect I was led a merry dance by a number of less than scrupulous contractors. I quickly came to discover that there was more than an ocean of difference between sitting comfortably ensconced behind a desk reading through a loss adjuster's report on the one hand and actually compiling that report on the other.

Beyond accompanying my colleagues on claims in the first week of joining, no other preparatory training was provided. I think the test applied to determine one's mettle was the eminently pragmatic 'sink or swim' one - and in those months I paddled furiously. An adjuster who joined not long after I did, sank. He was a chartered surveyor who, as it transpired, was unable to cope with the stress of having to occasionally appear like the antithesis of the Man from Del Monte and say 'No'. I have to say, I empathised in no small measure. This difficulty, and learning to surmount it, taught me what I believe to be one of life's truisms; that is, very often it is the manner in which a message is delivered, rather than its content, that causes offence.

The more than three years I spent with Thomas Howell were wonderful. My colleagues were a great bunch of people and the two branch managers who were there in my time were excellent and very supportive and forgiving of the many mistakes I made. Loss adjusting seems to be a profession that is particularly well suited to the empiricist and much of what I think makes for an effective adjuster is acquired through experience and on the back of many mistakes and a frequently bruised ego.

Personal reasons returned me to Malta in 1994 and to a local adjusting firm which I eventually left to establish myself as a sole practitioner in 1998. In 2005, as my thirties were drawing to a rapid close and I was within three months of colliding with my forties, I suppose that, in professional terms, I found myself on the road to Damascus. Actually, I was on the M40 heading to Oxford and as one of half of my brain was focussed on the road, the other drifted to wondering what a return to the UK would be like. The flight of fancy clouded over when I envisaged, in my mind's eye, that I might experience the same difficulty convincing prospective employers that I had had 15 years before. Then it struck me....my little moment of satori...If I believed myself to be a reasonably competent loss adjuster what, then, was my excuse for not being qualified? In truth, there was no excuse. I had been working in insurance since 1983 and as a loss adjuster since 1991 and had nothing to show for it but my experience (which is something of an unquantifiable animal) and greying hair. I had started the ACII in 1986 but had abandoned it. It may sound a touch dramatic but I had this sense of looking into the chasm of professional failure. Unless I qualified my professional horizons would be forever constrained. I had a further 25 years of working life to look forward to and by the time I reached Damascus I had resolved that I would be a Chartered Loss Adjuster by my forty-fifth birthday. Within a week of this resolution, I had been in touch with the CII, applied to take a couple of examinations that were scheduled for 10 weeks time, borrowed the books and got stuck in.

To my surprise, I found studying much easier than I had done 20 years earlier. I had significantly less conceptual difficulty with the material and, unexpectedly, felt an unwavering determination that I had never previously experienced where studying was concerned. I completed the DIP CII (Claims) and got in touch with the Institute as I trained my sights on the ACILA examinations. I acquired all of the books, technical papers and the sections of the various parliamentary acts comprising the recommended reading list and plunged into them. Those months of swotting were something of a revelation to me. I actually enjoyed the work. I found Richard Walmsley's books particularly illuminating even if I didn't necessarily agree with all of his opinions. Reading through all of the material, I came to realise, plugged a number of gaps in my knowledge, confirmed certain conclusions I had arrived at myself over the years and corrected what had been a little bit of wayward thinking. I got through the examinations and began work on the accreditation submissions. I must say I found studying for the ACILA far more rewarding and agreeable than I did the ACII, if only because it was so directly relevant.

The 3000 word limitation on the critical analysis, I came to discover, was a source of some frustration. It is the showpiece of the submissions and the guidance notes in the handbook are particular about its structure and the points it should cover. It seemed like an awful lot to have to cram into so ungenerous a limit but apparently it is meant to discourage unnecessary volubility. After much editing and re-writing my analysis came in at four words short of the maximum. The six case studies comprising the summary of experience presented less difficulty and some seven weeks later I travelled to London for the accreditation interview.

For some inexplicable reason I had unwittingly lulled myself into the baseless belief (as it became apparent) that the interview would be a mere formality. The first inkling that this might have been fanciful thinking came when I was told by the lady showing me to the meeting room that the three members of the panel had already been in conference for over ninety minutes. Quite how fallacious my supposition was broke upon me when I entered the room and saw that the individuals concerned were senior loss adjusters of many years standing. In the course of what turned out to be a two hour interview (I deliberately avoid use of the word ‘inquisition’ as the tone was convivial and instruments capable of inflicting acute bodily discomfort were nowhere to be seen) I was questioned in depth about my submissions and general experience. I think it was this concluding part of the qualification process that crystallised the sense that the ACILA was really something worth having.

Since qualifying in July of 2008 (and having in the bargain earned the fortuitous distinction, dubious though it may be, of being the first Maltese Chartered Loss Adjuster), I have sought to broaden my professional horizons by looking to secure overseas appointments assisting other adjusting companies. Interestingly, in the exchanges I have had with potential clients I have found that being in possession of the ACILA does seem to make a material difference.

Christopher Hayes