In a move that has sent tremors through the corridors of fiscal sanity, eBay has summarily dismissed a $55.5bn offer to acquire GameStop, leaving UK investors to wonder if American boardrooms have finally lost the plot. The bid, reportedly cobbled together by a consortium of hedge fund refugees and Reddit warlocks, was rejected with the kind of alacrity usually reserved for a pub patron overstaying their welcome after last orders.
Now, let us savour the sheer giddy absurdity of this situation. GameStop, a purveyor of pre-owned physical media which is to modern retail what a steam engine is to space travel, has somehow been valued at $55.5bn. That is more than the GDP of Iceland, and twice the price of a decent round at the Garrick Club. One suspects the bid was drafted on a napkin during a cryptocurrency-fueled bender, but that is neither here nor there.
The rejection has ignited a firestorm of tut-tutting across the City of London, where traders in pinstripe suits have paused their consumption of overpriced sushi to decry the 'lack of shareholder democracy' across the pond. 'It's a farce,' opined one fund manager, who asked to remain anonymous for fear of being mocked by his own reflection. 'They could at least have let the shareholders have a say. A vote. A coin toss. Something.'
Meanwhile, eBay's board has issued a statement so sterile it could have been written by an algorithm with a head cold. They cite 'strategic alignment' and 'fiduciary duties' as reasons for the rejection, as if those words mean anything outside of a PowerPoint presentation. One can almost hear the collective eye-roll from Bristol to Birmingham.
But let us not be too hasty in our condemnation. Perhaps the eBay directors are simply tired of the corporate theatre, the endless charade of governance that allows a man in a suit to veto a bid that could change the lives of thousands of retail investors. Or perhaps they are just terrified of what would happen if a mob of keyboard warriors actually got control of a company. The consequences could be delightful: quarterly earnings calls conducted via Twitch, dividend payments in Dogecoin, and a boardroom where the dress code requires a mask and a ludicrously handle.
The real tragedy here, of course, is the wasted gin. Think of the volume of G&Ts that could have been purchased with $55.5bn. Enough to float a small navy of gin-soaked admirals. Instead, we are left with a damp squib and the nagging suspicion that capitalism itself has become a parody of its former self, a funhouse mirror in which the only things that are real are the losses.
As of now, GameStop shares are down 12% in pre-market trading, which is about as predictable as a Daily Mail headline about immigrants. eBay stock, meanwhile, has remained flat, proving that the market cares not for the dreams of traders or the whims of journalists. The only winners here are the lawyers, who will bill seven figures for the privilege of saying 'no' in four hundred and eighty different ways.
In conclusion, we are left with a question that lingers like the smell of stale beer in a Wetherspoons: is this the best we can do? A world where a company that sells used copies of FIFA 14 is worth more than entire national economies, yet is still deemed too risky for a hostile takeover? God save the markets. And if not, then at least pass the gin.
