Stories of the Institutional Past #12

Valuing Space & Time

This is the twelfth instalment of the reminiscences of my professional past. Actually, it is number 13, as I made a little mistake with the last write-up, getting the numbering wrong. Anyway, numero 12 it is!

As an introduction to new readers, those “stories” are just a collection of anecdotes and events (never real names or places used), hopefully giving you a glimpse into the world of institutional asset managers and hedge funds with a few life lessons thrown in for good measure.

Value of Time & Place

I once received a big job offer to move to the Middle East. I vividly remember it as I got a call from a headhunter on June 24, 2016, the day after the tumultuous Brexit vote. I had worked an all-nighter, witnessing the historic shift change in real-time. Not knowing what the future for the UK financial industry would hold, I agreed to a meeting as I contemplated that moving abroad wouldn’t be the worst idea, at least for a while.

The initial meetings went very well. They then flew me out there in full luxury, all expenses paid for my final interviews and helped me look through the variety of accommodations and get a feel for how life would look like. It was a blast. My wife came with me. The job was interesting, and the pay was very attractive and tax-free.

At first, I was totally open to the idea. Living in a different country, getting used to a new way of life and appreciating other cultural aspects. It is pretty warm all year around, although the summers are certainly a bit too hot for anyone’s liking.

Source: Dall-E

I faced a pivotal decision: accept a well-paying job in the Middle East or continue my current life, closer to family and the familiar comforts of home and in a job and place I quite enjoyed working in.

It is funny when the allure of something new comes your way. You are automatically drawn to it as you find the positives of the novelty way more valuable than they objectively are. Similarly, I found myself brushing away any initial negative factors by default. A conscious bias forms as a result.

I took my time deciding, as I wanted the initial biased euphoria to subside, and I wanted to see things more objectively. I remember going on long walks and talking things through with my wife and close friends. Everyone was supportive, but your true friends and family always will be.

Decision-making isn’t easy and is very subjective. For me, I learned to listen to my gut feeling, a somewhat lost art we humans have but often ignore.

Valuing things up, I realised that despite the attractive monetary lure, there were things that I value more than monetary remunerations, namely time and relationships.

You can’t buy certain things. All of us know this deep inside, but we only value it typically when it’s cut short. The most significant factor in my decision was the time I would spend away from my loved ones. In our pursuit of professional success, it's easy to overlook that time with family and friends is finite and invaluable. No amount of money can replace the moments missed with them - be it birthdays, anniversaries, or just the daily joys and challenges shared. I realized that being physically present in their lives was irreplaceable.

Another aspect I considered was the comfort of home and the change of seasons, which I had grown to love. The Middle East's climate, dominated by scorching heat and a reliance on air conditioning for most of the year, starkly contrasted with the diverse seasons I was accustomed to. The first snowfall, the bloom of spring, the crisp air of autumn, and the warmth of summer - these seasonal changes were not just weather patterns but a rhythm of life that I cherished.

Living abroad also meant missing out on the simple, everyday pleasures I had come to cherish. The local coffee shop where I knew everyone's name, the familiarity of neighbourhood streets, the local festivals and traditions - these were the threads that wove the fabric of my daily life. The prospect of leaving them behind felt like leaving a part of myself.

In the end, the decision came down to what I valued most deeply. It wasn't an easy choice, but it was a personal one. I chose to stay, to be near those I love, to enjoy the changing seasons, and to continue living the life that I know and love.

This choice was a stark reminder that success isn't just measured in career achievements or financial gain but in the richness of the life we lead and the relationships we nurture.

Everyone is different. Choose what feels right to you.