Luke Sayers plays below the belt
The former PwC boss is again proving to be a gift to journalism.
Modern Australian society is powered by envy. Those of us grinding out a living imagine the rich and famous leading the charmed lives we'll never lead. Nowadays we don't even have to imagine, since they rub it in our faces via Instagram. Their hedonism is especially stark over summer, when – having bled the rest of us dry all winter – they're down at Portsea or Palm Beach in their cliffside piles, on their Baracuda yachts, parading their Saint Haven physiques and their blinding white teeth, eating salmon blinis for breakfast and having the kind of s-x usually reserved for old Kim Basinger movies.
And then there's Luke Sayers. Thank God for him, I say. For those of us down here in the real world of drudgery and family budgets and stretch marks, he confirms on an all-too-regular basis that we are not missing out on f—ken' anything.
You can always sense the summer break is petering out and the natural starting point of a new corporate year has arrived when Sayers's flaccid knob is once again dominating news headlines. Welcome to 2026!
Before last summer, Sayers was merely a discredited professional services principal, after his laugh-out-loud evidence to multiple inquiries into the PwC tax leaks scandal. That, of course, in no way disqualified him from the presidency of the Carlton Football Club.
