Whenever I'm stuck booking trade after trade while my supervisor is cracking jokes without bahenchod booking his own trades, I think about why on effing earth analysts are given such shitty work in Investment Banks. I used to think this was was a form of ritual humiliation that was similar to ragging in Universities: you suffer to get into an esteemed inner circle. Just recently, I've been having my doubts.
There is no doubt an element of testing involved in the inanity of the work given to analysts. Here, big college boy, empty out my latrine bucket. Supposedly if you hold you nose through it all, you come out smelling like roses. The problem is, not all managers treat you like shit, they all just give you monkey work.
Another possible explanation struck me when I was reading about the relationship between Indian army officers and their orderlies (in The Glass House, awesome book, read post below). Orderlies were charged with taking care of the personal effects of their officers, right down to the proverbial latrine bucket emptying. However in the heat of battle, bullets dont know the difference between orderly and office and comrades trusted each other with their lives. It is here that I draw the parallel to the investment banking world. Every day we do all the little things that make our managers' lives easier. One day however, when he (she? haha) is under pressure or off the desk, then we have to step into the firing line. They have placed their tragic excuse for lives in our hands and we need to grab these moments of opportunity.
After all the jawan orderlies only got the Victoria Cross. We get get a monster fucking bonus.
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