The New Faces of Wall Street

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

wall street (othermore)

Long hours, a little bit of moral ambiguity, and Excel spreadsheets -- always Excel spreadsheets. Kevin Roose, New York Magazine columnist and author of Young Money: Inside the Hidden World of Wall Street's Post-Crash Recruits, reports on the new generation of Wall Streeters - the bankers who were recruited after the 2008 crash - and how the industry's morals have changed since the financial collapse.


Excerpt: Two Chapters from Kevin Roose's Young Money

Chapter 1

Arjun Khan straightened his tie, brushed a lint ball off the charcoal gray suit he'd bought for $179 at Lord and Taylor to wear to his high school graduation, gave his hair a final pat, inspected his teeth for food in the bathroom mirror, and bounded out the door of his apartment and into the elevator of his downtown high-rise.

A confident, bright-eyed twenty-two-year-old with an aquiline nose and a slight belly paunch, Arjun was on his way to his first day of work as a mergers and acquisitions analyst at Citigroup. His neck muscles were tense and his stomach was turning over, but those were just surface nerves. Mostly, he was filled with the flinty resolve of the newly emboldened. After thousands of hours of preparation, dozens of interviews and expertly crafted e-mails, and one extremely lucky break, he had finally become a junior investment banker at a major Wall Street firm — the job he'd been chasing for years.

Nine months earlier, Arjun's plans had been derailed by the financial crisis. The Queens-born son of a data engineer father and a social worker mother who had both emigrated from India to New York as young professionals, he headed into the fall of his senior year with a prestigious job offer at one of the best banks on Wall Street: Lehman Brothers.

Arjun felt lucky to have gotten Lehman's attention in the first place. He attended Fordham University, a Jesuit school in the Bronx that, while strong academically, wasn't among Wall Street's so-called target schools, a group that generally included the Ivies, plus schools like Stanford, New York University, Duke, and the University of Chicago. That meant he had to work harder to get his foot in the door — joining the Finance Society at Fordham, attending lectures at Columbia Business School, spending his free time watching CNBC to pick up the cadence of the investor class. And his strategy worked. He secured a junior-year internship at Lehman, and he did well enough that at the end of the summer, he was offered a fulltime job beginning after his graduation. His recruiter told him, sotto voce, that he had been the only Fordham student to get an offer from Lehman that year.

During Arjun's internship, things began to go south. Ever since the Bear Stearns collapse earlier that year, industry watchers had been speculating that Lehman would be the next bank to fail. The firm's stock price had tumbled, thousands of workers had gotten laid off, and one well-regarded hedge fund manager jolted Wall Street that summer by proclaiming that Lehman wasn't properly accounting for its real estate investments. Still, Arjun assumed that Lehman would be fine.

He was wrong, of course. In September 2008, while Arjun was starting his senior year at Fordham, Lehman filed for bankruptcy. (Most of its U.S. operations were bought several weeks later by Barclays Capital, the investment banking arm of the large British firm.) The same day, Merrill Lynch, which had also been pummeled by the housing collapse, announced it was selling itself to Bank of America for $50 billion. AIG, an insurer weighed down by towering piles of credit default swaps, had to be given a massive $182 billion bailout, and Goldman Sachs and Morgan Stanley, the last freestanding American investment banks, turned themselves into bank holding companies in order to give themselves better access to the Federal Reserve's emergency lending window. Congress passed a $700 billion bailout package that gave a lifeline to banks and kept the markets afloat, and the entire country sunk into a recession that would cost millions of jobs, engulf every sector of the economy, and...well, you can probably fill in the rest.

From the Fordham campus, Arjun watched reports about Lehman's bankruptcy with a knot in his stomach, knowing that it would probably cost him his job. And several weeks after the bank's sudden death, he was in chemistry class when he got a call from an unfamiliar number with a 212 area code. He let the call go to voice mail, then checked it in the hall after class.

"Hi Arjun, this is John from Barclays Capital," the voice on the message said. "Obviously, you know why I'm calling. I just wanted to let you know that I'm very sorry, but we're not going to have a seat for you next summer."

After the bankruptcy, Barclays Capital's human resources department tried to help Lehman's spurned analysts find new jobs. But that just salted the wound. One human resources staffer pointed Arjun to a job at a small private wealth management firm in Miami — the financial sector equivalent of being cut from the Yankees' starting lineup and offered a benchwarmer spot with the Toledo Mud Hens.

"I'm just interested in investment banking," Arjun told the staffer. "I don't care what city it's in."

Arjun knew that Wall Street operated on a strict power hierarchy. Within every firm, there were so-called back-office workers who cleared trades, maintained the firm's computer systems, and performed all other kinds of technical and administrative work. One step up was the middle office, which comprised lots of disparate jobs that were important to the functioning of the bank but were not revenue-generating in their own right: legal, compliance, internal risk management. And then there was the promised land: the front office. The front office was what everyone pictured when they thought of Wall Street — pinstripe-clad deal makers and red-faced traders, making millions and getting their work on the front page of the Wall Street Journal. And when he decided to pursue a job in finance, Arjun decided he would accept nothing less.

But now, everything had changed. With the failures of Bear Stearns and Lehman Brothers and the sale of Merrill Lynch, the so-called bulge bracket of top-tier American banks was whittled down to just five firms: Goldman Sachs, Morgan Stanley, Citigroup, Bank of America Merrill Lynch, and JPMorgan Chase. And even those firms looked to be in jeopardy. All around the financial sector, the markers of success and failure were shifting. Tiny boutique firms were weathering the changes better than global financial conglomerates. In some cases front office bankers were being laid off while back-office IT workers were being promoted. Up was down. Down was up.

That year, as the crisis unfolded, the message boards at Wall Street Oasis, a popular finance-industry website, filled with posts from confused young finance aspirants, wondering what the industry's changes would mean for them:

Reconsidering Wall Street?

Will banking recover? How long?

Are banks really not hiring for the fall?

In September, one poster summarized many of the fears about what would happen to the financial industry: "I think it'll be a long time, if ever, before the swagger returns to Wall Street. The 'Masters of the Universe' image has been shattered."

Newly jobless, Arjun spent the rest of his senior year looking for work. He applied to financial internships on Craigslist, sent out dozens of résumés and cover letters, and pressed on every finance-industry connection he had. But nothing materialized — nobody was hiring. Finally, in late spring of his senior year, Citigroup contacted him about a last-minute opening in the bank's mergers and acquisitions division, where they needed another analyst to help with a bigger-than-expected workload going into the summer. Citigroup, like most banks, had been battered by the financial crisis, losing billions of dollars and being saved only by a massive government bailout. But the bank was alive, and it was doing deals again. Arjun knew that with the year's recruiting cycle already over, it was likely to be the only front-office offer he would get. So a few weeks before his college graduation, he accepted.

Throughout college, Arjun had drawn inspiration from the lives of people who had made it big on Wall Street despite not having the advantages of privilege or pedigree. The most famous example was Sidney Weinberg, a working-class Jewish kid from the slums of Brooklyn who started as a janitor's assistant at Goldman Sachs in 1907 and eventually worked his way up to become the senior partner of the firm. But there were more recent role models, too. Arjun knew, for instance, that there had been a Lebanese-American executive who had gone to Pace University — not exactly a finance feeder school — yet had become the vice chairman of Bear Stearns and one of the most powerful deal makers on Wall Street. Even Citigroup's CEO, Vikram Pandit, was an Indian-born outsider who had trained as an electrical engineer before breaking into finance. On Wall Street, he thought, it didn't matter whether you were a blueblooded WASP with degrees from Exeter and Harvard or, like him, an Indian kid from Queens with no family connections. If you were talented, if you could make money, and if you were willing to kick down every obstacle in your path, you could qualify as what is known in certain parts of the financial world as a "PHD" — a "poor, hungry, and driven" worker — and, eventually, you could make it to the inner circle.

But now, as he surveyed the wreckage of the crisis, Arjun felt even less sure than ever that the old social compact still held. After all, who knew what would happen to Wall Street in a year? More banks could go under. Entire lines of business could be wiped out by new regulations. There was no telling whether New Wall Street would look anything like Old Wall Street, or whether the traits that had mattered in American finance for the better part of three hundred years — hard work, hustle, and commercial instinct — would still be rewarded in the future.

As he got ready for work on his first day, though, Arjun's anxiety was trumped by excitement. In the worst Wall Street hiring climate in a generation, he'd finally gotten a seat at the table. He was proud of how far he'd come. He knew he'd made his parents proud, too, by getting a job at a prestigious bank they recognized by name and reputation. And he was determined to prove to his new colleagues that he could work every bit as hard as they did, even if he didn't have an Ivy League degree behind him or a trust fund lying in wait.

As he walked out into the brightly lit Manhattan streets that morning, Arjun gave his building's front desk attendant a smile and a wave. Then, he walked through the open door, pointed his cap-toe shoes toward the bank, and started to strut.

Chapter 3

After my Excel boot camp was over, I decided to back up a bit and try to answer a more basic question about young financiers: namely, how do they get to Wall Street in the first place? So I booked a ticket to a place where the vast majority of financial careers are born — the campus of an elite university — and went to see the finance recruiting machine in action.

I wound up in Philadelphia, on the campus of the University of Pennsylvania. On the day I arrived, it was raining buckets, but a biblical flood wouldn't have kept a small army of students from making their way to Houston Hall. There, in their illfitting suits, their leather padfolios clutched tightly to their sides, hundreds of eager Penn sophomores, juniors, and seniors filed into a recruiting session for Morgan Stanley, where they would hear a one-hour pitch for the bank's virtues and, hopefully, score a business card or two.

When most of the seats were filled, the lights inside the room dimmed, and a Morgan Stanley recruiter pressed Play to begin a promotional video. Upbeat pop-rock music played as the screen filled with text banners:








When looking at schools to visit, I singled out Penn for a reason. Like all Ivy League schools, Penn sends a chunk of its graduating class into the financial services industry every year — about 30 percent in 2009. But Penn's link with Wall Street is particularly tight because its Wharton School, a business program that contains both graduate students and undergrads, is considered America's primo farm team for budding young financiers — a sort of West Point for Wall Street. More than half of Wharton's six-hundred-person undergraduate class typically heads to banks, hedge funds, private equity firms, and other financial services companies after graduation. Among the celebrity financiers the school has churned out are SAC Capital billionaire Steven A. Cohen, the junk-bond impresario Michael Milken, and real estate megagoon Donald Trump. Wharton's list of famous alumni, and the fact that its graduates emerge armed with advanced finance training, has made it a place where recruiters are prone to drooling.

"Penn, and especially Wharton, is in a league of its own," one hiring manager at a top Wall Street firm told me. "It's the only place where you go to campus and it's already done and dusted — it's a matter of which financial services firm students want to go to, not whether they want to go into finance." (Patricia Rose, the head of Penn's career services department, gave a slightly milder diagnosis: "To come to Penn is to, at some point in your undergraduate years, ask yourself the question, 'Should I think about investment banking?'")

These days, financial firms — as well as top-tier management consulting firms like Bain and McKinsey — court Wharton students in a manner reminiscent of very polite stalking. They barrage students with information sessions, interview workshops, lavish restaurant meals, "sell days" in New York City, followup calls, and follow-up calls to the follow-up calls. At Wharton, these firms behave less like faceless corporate entities than like insecure middle schoolers, desperately fishing for clues about whether their favorite students like them back.

Getting a job at a top firm on Wall Street, even with a Penn degree in hand, is never easy. But it's especially hard when the financial industry is in turmoil, since a similar crowd of applicants competes for fewer spots. (In one recent year, Morgan Stanley received 90,000 applications for 1,200 full-time analyst positions — an acceptance rate of 1.3 percent.) And most banks draw between 50 and 90 percent of their full-time hires from the previous year's pool of summer interns, meaning that competition for the best offers is often all but locked up by junior year.

The race for Wall Street jobs is so cutthroat that an entire cottage industry has sprung up to give aspiring bankers a boost. You can now buy the "Investment Banking Interview Prep Pack" for $79.99 from Wall Street Oasis; the "Ace the Technical Investment Banking Interview" webcast and PDF guide for $99 from Wall Street Prep; or, if you're really playing catch-up and don't mind shelling out, a four-day "Intern Core Skills" workshop from Adkins Matchett and Toy for $3,000.

Wharton students generally don't need these study aids, since they already learn advanced financial skills in their classes. Still, in an attempt to garner offers from their financial firms of choice, they spend months burnishing their résumés, practicing their interview skills and elevator pitches, and poring over the Money and Investing section of the Wall Street Journal in order to arm themselves with sufficient knowledge to impress the recruiters. And then, every year, they head off to information sessions to begin closing the deal.

It wasn't always such an ordeal. For many years, Wall Street banks recruited like any other corporation — hiring a handful of graduates from top colleges to fill their junior ranks and employing them indefinitely. But in the early 1980s, banks began instituting what became the modern Wall Street recruiting program, in which college seniors are hired for two-year stints as analysts. After their two years are up, analysts are expected to find work at a hedge fund or private equity firm, or, in a few cases, get an offer to stay on for a third year of banking. The ones who don't are gently shown the door.

This new plan, nicknamed "two and out," was a brilliant tactical move. Selling Wall Street jobs to undergraduates as a temporary commitment rather than a lifelong career enabled banks to attract a whole different breed of recruit — smart, ambitious college seniors who weren't sure they wanted to be bankers but could be convinced to spend two years at a bank, gaining general business skills and adding a prestigious name to their résumés in preparation for their next moves. The strategy also created a generation of accidental financiers — people who had graduated from elite colleges with philosophy or history degrees, had no specific interest in or talent for high finance, yet found themselves still collecting paychecks from a big bank three decades later.

At Penn, though, most of the enthusiasm was genuine.

"Finance is a great industry filled with great people," one revved-up student told me.

"Traders are probably the coolest people you'll ever meet!" raved another.

Morgan Stanley's actual recruiting pitch was a fairly unremarkable collection of corporate banalities ("culture of excellence," "world-class mentoring opportunities") and promises of prestigious "exit opps" once the analyst years were over. But few words were given to describing the actual, day-to-day work of being a first-year analyst. And nobody from the bank mentioned the biggest reason a college senior might be attracted to Wall Street — namely, the fact that first-year analyst jobs pay a starting salary of around $70,000, with a year-end bonus that can be upwards of $50,000.

The lack of overt focus on money surprised me, though perhaps it shouldn't have. As strange as it sounds, a big paycheck may not in fact be central to Wall Street's allure for a certain cohort of young people. This possibility was explained to me several weeks before my Penn trip by a second-year Goldman Sachs analyst, who stopped me short when I posited that college students flock to Wall Street in order to cash in.

"Money is part of it," he said. "But mostly, they do it because it's easy."

He proceeded to explain that by coming onto campus to recruit, by blitzing students with information and making the application process as simple as dropping a résumé into a box, by following up relentlessly and promising to inform applicants about job offers in the fall of their senior year — months before firms in most other industries — Wall Street banks had made themselves the obvious destinations for students at top-tier colleges who are confused about their careers, don't want to lock themselves in to a narrow preprofessional track by going to law or medical school, and are looking to put off the big decisions for two years while they figure things out. Banks, in other words, have become extremely skilled at appealing to the anxieties of overachieving young people and inserting themselves as the solution to those worries. And the irony is that although we think of Wall Street as a risk-loving business, the recruiting process often appeals most to the terrified and insecure.

"It's incredibly risk averse," the Goldman analyst told me. "Think about it: if you go to a bank, you make as much money as anything except hedge funds, private equity, or possibly a tech startup. Those things are wildly more risky and a lot harder to do. So if a bank comes to me with an opportunity to lock down a good, high-paying job in September of my senior year without working too hard for it, I'm going to privilege that over anything else I might be thinking about doing."

After watching Penn students line up to nab precious seconds of face time with Morgan Stanley recruiters that night, I couldn't help feeling like not much had changed since the financial crisis. Whether because of the structured, well-timed nature of recruiting or simply Penn's finance-centric campus culture, the fact remained that these jobs were still objects of intense desire. Even a financial near-Armageddon, it seemed, hadn't been able to dislodge Wall Street from its pedestal. And I wondered: if students at Penn couldn't be swayed from their synchronized march to big banks by the worst economic crisis since the Great Depression, was the financial sector's allure simply irresistible?

Excerpted from the book Young Money by Kevin Roose. Copyright 2014 by Kevin Roose. Reprinted by permission of Grand Central Publishing. All rights reserved.


Kevin Roose

Comments [16]

1. Thank Gd that lady called pointing out that there is one purpose of Wall St. --personal profit for Wall Streeters.
Not only is "doing well by doing good" a silly thing to even think, let alone say on the Street, but even the concept of contributing to our society by creating healthy businesses sounds like Dirty Hippy Talk.

2. The lacrosse players of the 80s, i.e. three generations of wealth and not dumb as doorknobs, went to hedge funds and private equity by 2000 and today are in those areas, real estate or tech. IE get rich quick. If you're still on Wall St. and could possibly move, you're either happy or lazy -- & how many people are on the Street with that profile, like 3?

Feb. 22 2014 01:23 PM
AC Clark from NJ

$70,000 starting salary is the reason they go into finance? The median starting salary for computer engineering graduates is $71,700. It's $67,600 for chemical engineers, and $64,000 for mechanical engineers.

Sorry - but the reason is not the starting salary and the ability to pay off student loans. It's the long-term chance of making obscene money by taking a % of every transaction that passes through their hands - whether they add value or not.

Feb. 19 2014 03:09 PM
NYC Law Student

Interesting story. You could say a lot of the same things about law students, myself included, who are chasing (or have secured) jobs at big firms in a contracting market.

I think a lot of people in this generation have a lot more pangs about the ethics and optics of what they do as a career. Against this is balanced the pressure to earn a living, especially if you have an enormous debt load to work off. I think a lot of people in financial services, law, and other related fields are struggling with this balance, and the ultimate question of whether they're doing something that really matters or helps the world. It gives me some hope that so many of us think that way. Maybe when our generation takes on more leadership roles, that will bear itself out for the better.

Feb. 19 2014 11:38 AM
Chris from Livingston

Did Kevin Roose really say that the "best and brightest" do NOT go to Wall Street for the MONEY? Really? The only reason they go to Wall Street is to put OUR money into THEIR pockets. I hope the real best and brightest go into Science, Technology, Entertainment, etc and actually produce something of value. The Greediest go to wall Street and create nothing that helps anyone but themselves. Kevin Roose and WNYC should know that.

Feb. 18 2014 08:06 PM

Anna Sales would be a poor moderator even if she didn't have a somewhat annoying vocal quality. She can't facilitate a discussion, is unintentionally rude to callers, and never exhibits any critical thinking or wit.

Feb. 18 2014 02:02 PM
Hal the Mushroom from NYC

"The best and the brightest go to wall street" - Really? Really?!
Highly dismayed that even after callers dismissed that claim, the interviewer didn't think to stop drinking this guys's cool aid and question this wide and over-sized claim.

The best and the brightest go into Service.
They serve their peers, they share their knowledge they want to HELP make the world BETTER through giving of time, intellect and effort.

Even the author [plugging his book] kept repeating - These "best and brightest" DON'T know what they're doing with their life and want 2 years to make money.
WOW! Really? Really!
This country is really in deep trouble if THAT is the best standard for "best"/" brightest" we "should" all be looking up to. Doesn't sound like best or bright - sounds like selfish and lazy to me.
Go eat your mushrooms best and brightest.

Feb. 18 2014 12:36 PM
Mary from New York

I worked on Wall Street for a little over 25 years on the operations side which is quite different
than trading or sales. The biggest change since 2008 is that we hired these
Analyst with real false expectations of a "sexy" job and we put these kids
In the bottom half of the company -operations. Since 08' these kids from
Ivy League schools have displaced a lot of black and minority workers whom over
many years worked hard for these middle management positions. As there are
less and less positions on the trading desk, research, institutional bond desk etc.
these kids displace more and more minority workers. Since 08' we've seen a decline
on minority upward mobility on Wall Street.

Feb. 18 2014 11:34 AM

Screw these people.

Feb. 18 2014 11:27 AM
Chris Garvey from Libertarian

Let's not forget the welfare program for bankers:
Federal Reserve gave $16.1 Trillion since 2007 to:
Citigroup: $2.5 trillion ($2,500,000,000,000)

Morgan Stanley: $2.04 trillion ($2,040,000,000,000)

Merrill Lynch: $1.949 trillion ($1,949,000,000,000)

Bank of America: $1.344 trillion ($1,344,000,000,000)

Barclays PLC (United Kingdom): $868 billion* ($868,000,000,000)

Bear Sterns: $853 billion ($853,000,000,000)

Goldman Sachs: $814 billion ($814,000,000,000)

Royal Bank of Scotland (UK): $541 billion ($541,000,000,000)

JP Morgan Chase: $391 billion ($391,000,000,000)

Deutsche Bank (Germany): $354 billion ($354,000,000,000)

UBS (Switzerland): $287 billion ($287,000,000,000)

Credit Suisse (Switzerland): $262 billion ($262,000,000,000)

Lehman Brothers: $183 billion ($183,000,000,000)

Bank of Scotland (United Kingdom): $181 billion ($181,000,000,000)

BNP Paribas (France): $175 billion ($175,000,000,000)

Federal Reserve's nearly 100 year history was posted on Senator Sander's webpage.

Feb. 18 2014 11:21 AM

It's sad for the Show that they allowed this fantasist on.

His PR BS is beneath contempt.

Feb. 18 2014 11:20 AM

I got an IDEA!!


Be productive instead of shuffling wealth around!

Feb. 18 2014 11:19 AM
Mr. Bad from NYC

@ RUCB_Alum from Central New Jersey

Yes, the repeal of Glass Steagall was the primary cause of the 2007-8 financial crisis. The problems within our economy generally began in the 1970's with the Nixon Shocks and later in the early 80's when the dismantling of most sensible regulations took place.

Feb. 18 2014 11:18 AM
genejoke from Brooklyn

Anyone out there buying this b.s.? Nope, didn't think so!

Feb. 18 2014 11:17 AM


Feb. 18 2014 11:15 AM
MichaelB from Morningside Heights

2 years or even 5 years is not a long time to have "no control" of your life as the caller claimed about her brother. Too many people have no control over any part of their life for their entire working lives, because they don't make enough to live on and have the great and often overpowering stress every day about how to pay their rent and put food on the table. That is a type of stress and lack of control that completely overshadows anything that a Wall Street "tycoon" ever experiences, young or senior.

Feb. 18 2014 11:13 AM
RUCB_Alum from Central New Jersey

The primary capital formation parts of the Street are fine. IPO's, investment banking firms, etc. I just don't cotton much the concept of private profits/public losses. If they are taking risks so large that they threaten the general economy, maybe the regulatory function needs to be bulked up.

Secondary trades are just gambling. Trading stocks from one pocket to another without adding much value. Losses in those markets should *never* be bailed out. Period.

Mr. Roose seems to have spent a lot of energy re-creating econometrics in a spreadsheet model. Nothing new really.

Feb. 18 2014 11:11 AM

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