Developing compassion: bankers

A reposting (and re-editing) of old-blog posts I like.

On several occasions recently, I have found myself defending bankers. This goes way beyond my day job of running a PR agency that’s focused, to a large extent, on banks. In reality the agency positively profiles the products and services of banks (and others) to sophisticated audiences such as corporate treasurers, financial institutions and other banks. In this defence I was defending bankers themselves. Like Gordon Gecko in Wall Street, I was even defending greed.

To many this really will seem like the ultimate exercise in trying to develop compassion, as recommended by Don't Sweat The Small Stuff author Richard Carlson (and as explained in my previous posts). Yet for me – as an ex banker – it is probably more the other way around. It is me asking others to examine their – perhaps stereo-typical, perhaps (even) a touch prejudicial – views on a section of society currently the target of a great deal of loathing from all “right-thinking” people.

First let’s defend bankers themselves. Much of my defence focuses on my view that the typical banker is a long way their unsavoury media stereo-type of shouting yobs in red braces or arrogant and braying fools at a race track or in a nightclub. Of course, those types exist but they are a tiny minority compared to the thousands upon thousands employed in the financial services industry, even on the trading floors. In fact the vast majority of bankers are very normal people – perhaps even too normal to many of their detractors.

If I was to paint a stereo-type of a City banker, therefore, it would be of a conservatively-dressed, state-educated, family man or woman travelling in from their newish home in one of the nicer suburbs in the Essex or Kent commuter belt (or New Jersey or Connecticut if in New York). They undertake highly-technical, highly-specialised work – often working long hours. They don’t smoke, drink only moderately and don’t know the first thing about recreational drugs. Their main passions are golf, squash and maybe Tottenham Hotspur or West Ham United at the weekend (though probably not since the kids were born).

Of course they are ambitious. These are the children of working-class Londoners (or Scots or Northerners or Asians for that matter), seeing the financial services industry as their route to advancement. Indeed, my father would often state that his generation of post-war working class men advanced into the respectable middle classes via the sciences. Well, for our generation, the same can be said of the City (or Wall Street). While most creative careers (at least the lucrative ones) remain the preserve of the privately-educated elite, those seeking advancement from the sometimes painfully-low horizons of a poor education and an inept social training now focus on the financial services.

But what of the greed that was supposed to have nearly destroyed the banking system in 2008? Indeed, saying someone has the stereo-type wrong does not undermine the concept of greed, or its role in the banking crisis. And while I could put a technical spin on the crisis – in part blaming the “law of unintended consequences” from previous rounds of regulation (Basel II and IAS-39 being two regulations worth examining in this respect) – it would be stupid to say that greed played no part.

So can I defend greed in order to try and evoke a compassion for bankers? I can try – perhaps by turning the debate around and examining those that detest bankers and their greedy ilk. For this I need to make reference to Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. Abraham Maslow was interested in exemplary people and their motivations (Eleanor Roosevelt was a particular focus), which turned into a “ theory of human needs and self-actualisation”. Usually expressed as a pyramid, Maslow – in his 1954 book Motivation and Personality – states that humans move up from the basic physiological needs for food, water and sleep, to require safety in the form of shelter, employment and health. Above that humans need friendship and love and above that self-esteem, confidence, achievement and respect. And at the very top of the pyramid are attributes such as morality and creativity.

The important point here is that, at all levels, money is simply a means to an ends. Material advancement is no more than a ladder up to the next level. Certainly, Maslow contends that we cannot graduate up to the next level without satisfying the needs of the lower level. Only once we have food and water can we think about shelter and security. Only once we have safety can we think about love and belonging. Only once we are loved can we think about self-esteem and respect. And only once we have self respect do we crave morality and seek to express ourselves creatively. Interpret this into career ladders, ambitions and a focus on material advancement and it is easy to come to a view regarding why some people still seek wealth (if only to get their children to the top of the pyramid via a private education) while others seek more spiritual rewards.

And it might also be the case that, once at the higher level – perhaps thanks to the efforts of a previous generation – it is difficult to develop compassion for those in the immediate level below, while compassion for those well below us in Maslow’s hierarchy comes naturally. Certainly, it is easier to be compassionate about those seeking food or shelter than those seeking material advancement so their kids can also reach the podium of creativity and morality. But that doesn’t preclude us from at least trying – even if, to adopt a very Carlsonian concept, it is just for fun. And if even if that won’t work? Even if we still hate those “greedy” bankers? Never mind – we can at least comfort ourselves with the thought that that their children may be more to our taste.

One last note on this. In no way is this a judgement or a condemnation of those that attack bankers or greed – or those that have made it to that happy place at the top of Maslow’s hierarchy (however they got there). It is simply a plea, in the best Carlsonian tradition, to “develop our compassion”. The point being that the harder this seems, the more worthwhile the exercise.