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Your Guide to Washington and the World’s 2024 US Election Means
The intensity and hostility of the clashes in the oval office have left many observers surprised by the clash between Donald Trump, J.D. Vance and Voldy Mee Zelensky. But for us who spent our investment banking careers, the scene had a familiar ring.
What unfolded at that meeting reflected the strategies used by some financial leaders. It is the use of rhetorical domination as an alternative to substantial dialogue. This is a tactic that takes place in conference rooms or conference calls when there is a lack of actual discussion. It is designed to close the opposition parties, which strengthens the hierarchy and reminds other parties of their location. Repeated demands for gratitude, warnings not to “litigate” issues “in front of the American media,” reminding Ukraine’s weaknesses — these kinds of statements are not intended to promote real debate. They are intended to curb differences of opinion.
All investment bankers are doing this. And these tactics sometimes pay off. Most bank veterans can remember a time when bullies were promoted while collaborators were on the sidelines. These apex predators do not rank by cultivating fresh ideas or building consensus. They rise by holding their territory and wielding their strength with ruthless efficiency.
Early in my career, I proposed a carefully structured block trade, but as it turns out, I was only immediately shot down by a senior manager who suffered an unrelated transaction loss who didn’t bother to disclose. Instead of a brief explanation, they deployed the standard Arsenal: “We beat this issue to the ground and there’s nothing left to discuss,” “We’ve retreated you many times,” “You’re not a good partner.” The message was clear: you risk dropping it or losing a key alliance for future deals. Shut up and take L.
So I made a call to my client with nasty repentance and walked through the previously given signs of unbinding price (signs that I cleared internally with the same senior leader). A few days later, competitors ran the exact same deal at a more sharp price, earning eight-figure fees and admiration from their luxurious clients. I could only watch in silence. Internally, no one admitted the error. Even now, years later, memories are stung. Can you push me hard? perhaps. But it would have been a career seppuku.
On another occasion, the Commitment Committee’s call to approve convertible bond underwriting changed when senior bankers clearly opposed the contract for identifiable reasons began to plague my colleagues with quick-speaking questions. She treated each with aplomb and precision, but his frustration grew. Finally, he snapped. “Stop lectures on this. I was doing a convertible before you were born.” A long, airless silence continued. It was a moment when we all knew the deal was dead. The rationale was not important. The key was that we failed to respect him quickly enough. He not only appointed himself a gatekeeper – he had done something that had anointed himself, and the temple doors remained tightly closed.
Almost everyone I know across the city and Wall Street have similar stories, often far more insane, but only in rare cases the exchange causes HR complaints. There is no profanity or explicit misconduct, but sometimes there is no clear means of remedy, and there is sufficient residual discomfort to leave the recipient feeling damaged and victimized. Similarly, Trump and Vance may have been harsh towards Zelensky, but it can be clearly argued that they rely on powerful rhetoric rather than completely abuse.
Of course, many senior bank leaders do not run this way. In fact, most of the people I have reported over the years valued informed discussions and constructive pushbacks. And it has not always been a black and white case of domination or dialogue. Some leaders will run through what they see as weak or beneficial while showing respect and even respect for others who are perceived as being able to protect themselves. This is very similar to the contrasting treatment of Trump, Zelensky and Emmanuel Macron. The American president tolerated discrepancies from the French president at much more meetings than his Ukrainian counterpart.
When rhetorical superiority comes first, a cycle of self-prejudice arises. Leaders surround themselves (not always, but not human, but not human) dissuade challenging perspectives and create an environment in which subordinates spend more time deciphering whims and hopes than developing sound strategies. The resulting atmosphere of confusion and debilitating impairs institutional effectiveness, but paradoxically, the leader’s grip is stronger.
This approach may result in short-term victories, including larger compensation pool allocations, more personnel, and internal victory, but the long-term outcome is steep. Morale dies down. Market share will be eroded. Innovation dries out. Important considerations are overlooked. Meanwhile, architects of this culture continued to rise, and others cleaned up the wreckage.
To be fair, there is an investment banking moment when decisions need to beat endless debates. When dealing with politically savvy colleagues (and most bankers excel at internal politics), excessive consultations can halt the necessary reform, shift in rails, or compromise strategies. As my former mentor once told me, “Sometimes you need to steam and roll people to get things done.” When I led my team, I would like to think I relied on persuasiveness rather than naked appeals to my authority, but sometimes I had to lose patience, make decisions and cut off discussions and dialogues.
The White House conflict, at least temporarily, cracked down on an agreement between the US and Ukraine to develop Ukraine’s natural resources. Trump and Vance may not have mastered the art of trading, but they have perfected the art of suffocating and banishing those who deny their authority.
