She: barely 30, with a top-of-class GPA from one of India’s most sought after tech schools. But the allure of an unputdownable job offer from Lehman Brothers weighed more than an IIM-A tag. The promise: an all-expenses-paid MBA from a school of her choice, if she successfully completed two years as an analyst with the I-bank in New York. This was a no-brainer—until 2008, that is. After completing her Ivy League MBA, Ms Swish rejoined the firm as a lead trader at its Tokyo desk. She logged off one Friday that fateful September and was delivered the bad news at 7.30 am on Monday. And sorry, since we’re going down, there is no severance....
He: nudging 40, with an MBA from a leading school in India, comfortable in his role as the India CEO of one of the world’s biggest packaged goods companies. Until the proverbial itch. He succumbed to the excitement of heading a start-up as its Asia head, based out of Hong Kong. Bags packed, schooling in place, and a fortnight from flying out, Mr Jet Set gets a call from his new prospect. Headquarters had reviewed Asia and decided to shelve any new business, indefinitely. Apologies....
I leave you to speculate what happened to Ms Swish and Mr Jet Set—both real-life protagonists caught in career-threatening circumstances. But there is a bigger story here. It’s not a pleasant one if you started work anytime after 1992, after graduating from one of the top B-schools. Never did any of these premium executives have to square up to anything quite like this. The Asian crisis in 1998, you may argue; or even the much-vaunted dotcom bubble. Nah! Compared to 2008, those seem to be mere course corrections.
Only yesterday, the big firms, I-banks, brands and conglomerates wooed these B-schoolers. They were tracked hawk-like, hunted down, on-boarded, and primed with plum roles, all before you could utter Merrill Lynch! Most would have PPOS (pre-placement offers, silly), or a few offers on Day Zero at campus, where they sat smug, while all the jostling would be on the other side of the table, courtesy the recruiters. This, they presumed, would be pretty much their life thereafter: insulated within an exclusive talent pool.
Laid off? Made redundant? That was for the “rankers”—a loose term for non-MBAs or those who didn’t have the right of way to the top B-schools and were expected to trudge their way up the corporate ladder. That’s why, despite their well-honed problem-solving skills and analytical minds, the mid-career gilded globetrotters were clueless when the bad news hit home. It even seemed personal: Why me? Is it deceit? Or just a nightmare? The denial is not hard to fathom. Middle-class children growing up in the ’70-80s were tutored to get into the most coveted colleges, regardless of the stream of study, so they could access that last altar: an iim or another acclaimed B-school. A good MBA was half the job done; the other half was the job itself, of course. But all that changed very suddenly, within weeks and months.
There is only one reality: The new Ungilded Age for some time to come, and for most of us. Here, then, is some from-the-gut advice for B-schoolers: shed the arrogance. Eschew the greed; there’s virtue in sustaining some hunger. Collaborate and help; there is a difference between ambition and egotism. Expense accounts have been expended; come on, Coach Class is not that bad! The good news: bonuses and increments haven’t vanished; they just got more real.
Those who got away this time, remember: times are ever more uncertain and you’ll never know when the next twister strikes. Either way, it’ll be a while before a certain demographic can crawl back into the tony apartments of Upper East Side, West End, the Mid-Levels or Cuffe Parade.
(Lousie Braganza is the pseudonym of a headhunter who has spent many years wooing top managers. These are her personal views.)
