Stephen Hester spent 19 years working at Credit Suisse First Boston, latterly as co-head of European investment banking. Then he went on to turn round Abbey with Luqman Arnold and run British Land, before agreeing to take charge of the revival of the Royal Bank of Scotland.

You don't have jobs like that without becoming very wealthy. And indeed Hester, 48, is just that, amassing more money than arguably he needs. Hester loves skiing, tennis, shooting, hunting and croquet. On his 350-acre estate near Banbury he has built a fine example of a formal English garden and amassed a superb collection of trees. His wife is also a banker and they have a son and daughter. His wife is a master of foxhounds in Warwickshire.

When I had lunch with Hester recently, we discussed how the country was in the grip of envy and how difficult it was, now he is at RBS, having his lifestyle laid bare.

At no point did it occur to me that he could be in line for as much as £9.6 million in his new post at the taxpayer-rescued bank.

While Hester can argue a package that size is about par for the course for leading a major bank, I'm baffled as to why he accepted it. Surely he must have known that the media and MPs would have a field day? Yet again, my old friend, senior banker's hubris, appears to have played a determining role.

It's sad because Hester really is an intelligent man, not frightfully grand. What it shows is that bankers haven't changed, that the same ways still exist.

I didn't need Hester's pay to tell me this. I remember, in the middle of the crisis, going to breakfast with the head of a US investment bank in London at its executive townhouse in the West End. He ordered a full English and when he didn't get the grilled sausage he was expecting, barked at the poor waitress who had to scurry off and produce one for him. When we came out, chauffeurs were waiting by limousines ready to take him and his companion east to the City.

All Hester's packet does is to confirm that the top bankers' detachment from the real world is very much alive and well. What is particularly galling about the Hester case, however, is that the paymaster, the majority shareholder who has gone along with his remuneration, is you and me. As well as greed, what hasn't changed either is short-termism. In this, sadly, the Government is unwittingly fanning the flames. As, it hopes, only the temporary holder of shares in RBS and the newly combined Lloyds-HBOS, the Government is keen to get them off its hands as soon as possible.

The public finances are so bad that such an aim is laudable - no one wants nationalised banks and the Treasury needs all the cash it can get - but it militates against long-term decisions for steady, consistent growth.

The level of Hester's pay is dependent upon him driving the RBS share price, which makes the Government's sale all a bit easier. The temptation for him and his team to take big bets and ramp the shares so the Treasury can get out is enormous.

They can do so, not only in the know-ledge that RBS's main shareholder is unlikely to argue against them but also that the Government will always bail the bank out as it is too big to fail.

So, possibly, are the seeds of the next crisis sown. It's a very strange situation indeed where your biggest shareholder, who has most to lose, is also the ultimate guarantor of your continued survival as a bank.

Two sharp-tongued spinners who cut a path to the very top

In what now seems like a former life, I had numerous dealings with John Bercow, the new Speaker.

I spent months investigating the business affairs of Jonathan Aitken, then chief secretary to the Treasury. Aitken had been a non-executive director of BMARC, an arms company that supplied naval guns to Iran in defiance of a United
Nations embargo.

The contract, codenamed Project Lisi, was mentioned in board papers distributed for board meetings attended by Aitken.

He denied knowing anything about Lisi and said he had no idea BMARC guns were going to Iran.

Gerald James, BMARC's former chairman, said otherwise. All the directors knew the weapons were going to Iran, said James on BBC radio. It was a startling intervention. Aitken chose to fight fire with fire, line by line. His special adviser was Bercow, who I recall as being especially aggressive and fond of the sound of his own voice.

His phone calls to me were intemperate and threatening.

I, and other journalists who were also taking an interest in Aitken, were accused of being in cahoots with the BBC, which the chief secretary,
via Bercow, had accused of political bias.

Subsequently, Aitken was convicted of perjury and sent to prison for 18 months. At the same time as I was dealing with Bercow, another adviser was active in another field.

David Cameron was communications director at
Carlton TV. If any criticism was aimed at his company or its boss, Michael Green, the journalist concerned could expect to hear from Cameron.

Like Bercow, he was also sharp-tongued. When awkward questions were put to him, Cameron too could be obstructive and unhelpful.

Both were spinning for their masters, Bercow for Aitken and Cameron for Green.

If anyone had said to me then that one day the duo would go on to hold the very highest offices in the land, Bercow as Speaker and Cameron as leader of the Opposition and possibly Prime Minister, I would have told them to seek help.

Jacko setback? the O2 Arena can beat it....

Last Wednesday, I had a coffee with David Campbell, boss of the O2 Arena. In 2008, the London venue became the most popular in the world — 56% ahead of second place Madison Square Garden, with 140 days of shows.

Then Michael Jackson died. Take off the 27 Jackson performances scheduled for 2009 (the star was committed to 50 but they were spread out) and Campbell's arena will still record a 25% increase year on year in 2009, with more than 170 shows, including the forthcoming Kings of Leon, Madonna, Pearl Jam, Walking With Dinosaurs, Ben Hur's world premier, and the ATP tennis finals.

Indeed, the last quarter of the year has no dates available at all. So far from spelling ruin, Jackson's loss will merely be a blip in the continuing O2 success story.