Getting Fired is Way Easier Than Getting Hired(How very interesting!)

Ok. This will take long, but it is important for you to read it to see how things can turn around, how you could fail and how your dreams could break without a single mistake of yours.

Have you ever been interviewed at an investment bank? It takes ages, in rounds of seven or eight. In each one, you spend the whole day at the bank, speaking to a million different people, taking a zillion tests, playing thousands of roles in a thousand in-tray exercises. Interviews are killing, with a dozen different people and on a dozen different topics in each time you’re there.

Among approximately 20.000 cosidered applications (min. 2.1, 3.0 GPA), only the top 100-200 can make it. If you’re in, that means you’re among the very best, happy you. Hey, wait, this is 2009 and it’s the payback time for the stupid mistakes your seniors have done in past few years. It was clear from mid-2007 that banking sector would bust because of doing imaginary business and creating a non-existing wealth.

In 2008, I watched these brilliant young people I met while doing my Masters in the UK and travelling to business-related events in Europe dying to get in there. Some of them landed a job in front and mid-offices where the real business is going on. The rest was a bit envious because they were not among the very best of the bests, while their lucky classmates were.

As time went by, things started to get worse for those who landed a £40.000+bonuses job as well. The future investment bankers spending their time tanning and relaxing on the beaches of Turkey before getting back to work started to receive calls from rainy London. Bad news. Many of these brilliant people were already fired before even having their first day at Credit Suisse, UBS, Goldman Sachs, Morgan Stanley, Merrill Lynch or Lehman Brothers. Unfortunately, many of them are still on job hunting. It’s too sad to see such intelligent and well-educated people being unemployed even after six months from their graduation. Life’s cruel for us all. It really is.

The ones who stayed weren’t actually the lucky ones. They were earning much less than their colleagues did a year ago. (No need to mention that a typical investment banking analyst has 100 hours per week on average.) The rumours were spreading fast and everyone was worried that it will be his turn soon. The ultra-charismatic bankers now watch their analysts, associates, directors... Leave.

I assure you that as they watch their colleagues leave and start a different life, they’re not feeling sorry for them, but worrying about their own future instead. Thinking about their dreams of becoming a director some day and having a seven-figure pack, they met this awful reality, trying hard not to burst into tears. No one can claim that he never thought of himself getting fired and others watching him blankly as he packs his stuff, and cried.

Anyways, crying lets you free your mind and feel better afterwards. That's what the bankers have been doing frequently in past few months. I assure you, even directors at their forties cry. Crying while packing up your office stuff? Oh wait, Lehman people couldn’t even do that properly!

Is there anyone who doesn't have a pic in front of the Leh Bros, 745 7th Ave, in NY? I personally have dozens of them. Not with a securiy guard in, of course.

If you wonder what has happened to this $1 billion-worth lovely building on the Times Square, covered with neon lights and providing a direct entrance to the tube station downstairs; Barclays of Britain has got it along with all other LB assets.

So Barclays is growing? I would't say so. I've recently heard that it's going to fire more than a thousand bankers and rumours have already started to spread about who those unlucky ones will be.

I was there when the Lehman Brothers announced its bankruptcy. Early morning, bankers arrived at their office by the Canada Square in Canary Wharf, ready to trade their souls in as if it was an ordinary day. Then, the crowd started to get bigger and bigger. Security guys were holding the doors locked and no one was being let in. Bankers in their suits were stalking; speaking to each other about what the hell was happening, or smoking cigarettes like they did in good old times.

An intelligent guy attempted to check his corporate e-mail account on his BlackBerry (I actually guess that it is integrated to the bodies of the bankers). Surprise, surprise, he saw the e-mail accounts blocked. Soon, everybody had the same blank screen on their BlackBerry’s. Towards the evening, people were let in to pack their own stuff and leave permanently, in small groups of 6-8 each time.

I watched people leaving, and seen some of them even grinning. They’re happy? I think it is rather a proof of their shock. Even the high school drop-out model girls knew about the situation Lehman was in. I believe it’s kind of this feeling of not accepting the reality as it is, I don’t know if there is a name in psychology for this syndrome.

You could see the same on the face of the similar type of white-collars hanging outside their office windows in the World Trade Centre on 9/11. Like saying “I’m hanging here, but if let them know I'm stuck in here I’m sure I’ll be rescued, they can’t just let me die here!” Sadly, they did. Billions of people saw this scene, but there were no helicops or Arnold's for rescue. You got what I mean. In real world, you've got to rescue yourself. Simply because no other person or company is going to do so.

A Leh Bros senior on 7th Avenue on Times Square, NY. Packed his stuff, ready to go. Go where? These guys haven't even used cabs in ages. They were in their comfy Limo's, a special service offered for these special people. Phew.

I know a few Lehman guys. An analyst in headquarters in New York left the real world for good for an academic career and started his PhD degree at Harvard. Another analyst from NY wanted to use this time of crisis for an MBA at Kellogg. I know two guys in London, one joining London Business School for MBA and another to MSc Finance at the London School of Economics. So, it looks like crisis period is the time for further study. It shoudn't be that hard to get into these super-prestigious schools after spending a few years in banking. Not everyone enjoys studying though.

Two associates left London and gone home to start new careers in completely different sectors; one joined a media group and another to a retail chain in finance department. One associate from Turkey started his own private equity firm. Not a good time, I believe. I actually heard that he gave up with the private equity thing and went on a long holiday after years of hard work. Don’t worry; he should have a nice sum to spend, enough for the rest of his life.

It’s not only the Lehman guys who are unemployed now. I heard a Morgan Stanley director in Turkey getting laid off a few months ago, as the MS closed down its Turkish office without really doing a single business. They say his rent is $8000 in a silly little place like the ghetto of Istanbul, Zekeriyakoy. Even if there would be a Buckingham Palace or even something bigger and better in Zekeriyakoy that would not worth such amount. So, was he kind of fooled? Yes, he was. (Okay, I see he’s been away from Turkey for a while, but why didn’t anyone in the office advise him on a nice place like Levent or Camlica for a non-foolish amount? You see, everyone involved in this business is cruel in some way.)

Now, I’ve heard that he’s moving out. Well, a director should already have a seven-figure cash on his account, so no need to feel sad for him. On the contrary, he most probably worked on imaginary figures like all his colleagues to create the biggest financial crisis ever hurting us all, so you are free to hate him. Perfectly fine. (Oh, about this house thing, I forgot to mention how the investment bankers love to spend money on stupid things, as it is impossible for them to spend it happily together with their families and friends. I’ll tell more about that later, stay tuned.)

I’d sometimes call my friends in other leading investment banks just to say hi and plan for the night if we’re that lucky to be free even at night-time. Good old times. Now, they’re not letting me make a call on their office line, as all are worried about receiving a call from the human resources to tell them they’re fired. The phone on the table rings, everyone stares at him taking the call, and waiting to see if it’s his turn. Shouldn’t be that hard to imagine. Your phone rings, a brainless HR director or your own director (if he’s not getting fired as well) calls, you either go to have a nice little chat, or you directly pack your stuff and leave.

Lehman Brothers CEO Richard Fuld under protest. He believes he's become a scapegoat, and he deserves at least a little respect because he has spent almost thirty years in the battle, and lost only once.

You're free to hate him though, in my opinion. A friend of mine has seen him get punched at a gym in NY shortly after the LB got bankrupt. Wow. Great job, whatever his name is. Well deserved, Rich.

I absolutely agree with the protestors that he's a shameless capital greedy. But come on, confess it; not only Richy, but all bankers are so, including your best friends. Of course, you may well choose not to hate the player, but hate the game instead.

How you feel doesn't really matter though. You're in this trap in the real world, and there's no way out.

So, I guess it’s all clear now. Spend years studying like hell, work like hell; compete against the very best in ten rounds of interviews, succeed it, start working 100 hours a week, let your company earn millions; just to get fired in bare 10 seconds.

Well, if you’re sad for this way of getting fired, take a look at the alternative ways applied in Turkey in my next blog. Beware; you might burst into tears then.

Stay tuned. I’ll keep coming up with better and better stories, and you’ll like them. You definitely will.

Love

Hi There!

Welcome to the Real World.

You might already be in business, which is perfectly fine as you will have the chance to get to know some success and failure stories, alongside rumours. Perhaps, I’ll write about you someday. No need to worry, I won’t mention your real name or company. I’m aware I’m writing this for people who still think and live in accordance with collective mind. Phew.

For those who haven’t reached their twenties yet and don’t know what to do; this will be your handbook. So, read it well. You might find it useful to read about business news and stories, but don’t skip the rumours. It’s very likely that you’ll meet such people some day, perhaps very soon. I will also include some real facts and tips for you to reach success in your career search. You better get your weapons before you face the danger.

Let me tell you a little about myself. I have studied at your exclusive dream schools both in Turkey and in the United Kingdom, on full scholarships in all of them. Not that I needed any support, but I was the brillant and gorgeous looking girl whom every school wanted to have in its classes. I made use of the opportunities that landed at my feet, and met thousands of people who made, or are dying to make it big. Thank God, I had the chance to know how ugly people could get, so I wasn’t really surprised when I met the real world. Oppositely, I feel like I have just started living.

You wonder what these schools are, or where I live, or what I look like? What if I am the one in the picture above? Is my signature the abbreviation of my name? I won’t tell you. Isn’t it a bit too early for delivering such details? I think it is.

The only thing I could tell you at the moment is that both my parents are Turkish (i know it's impossible to get it from my perfectly British accent, sorry, from my writing style), so, I will mostly be writing about Turkish business. Oh wait, I've got tons of excellent contacts in Canary Wharf and Wall Street. I'll help you easing your curiosity about how life goes in the Square Mile. Don't envy them, they're not having six-figure bonuses anymore (you should have known that).

Stay tuned. You won’t be disappointed.

Love