Winston Churchill once said "there is no sphere of human influence in which it is easier to show superficial cleverness and the appearance of superior wisdom as in matters of currency and exchange". All the same, I have made a good living providing wisdom with respect to currency and exchange to clients around the world. As one can imagine, these client encounters are usually a little unstimulating and typically forgettable. In the old days, Japanese customers would fall asleep. I originally thought I was just boring them, but have since learned it is customary for the most senior Japanese manager to exercise his seniority by snooring during a meeting. Many hedge fund managers like to tell me I'm stupid. But after their record losses last year, I can at least tell them I am in good company. And French customers just pretend they don't know what I am saying, which I suppose is fair since half the time I'm not sure either.
Every now and then, however, I have one of those client experiences that leaves a lasting impression on me. One such "meeting" occurred in Stockholm a few years ago. (Before you Scrantonians google it, Stockholm is the capital of Sweden). It was originally meant to be the usual fare - a research dinner where I spoke and everyone else ate. Normally, I liked to invite junior members of my team to attend client events. This time I chose a young, female, traditional Indian analyst (YFTIA for short). This was her first client trip.
As it was a beautiful sunny July day, the lead salesperson made a last minute change. Rather than dining in the city we took a boat a few hours up the archipelago for a simple meal on a tiny island. It all started out well: Some nice food, followed by shots of schnapps and then singing of traditional Swedish drinking tunes. I must admit I had no idea what I was singing, but it seemed close enough to what I used to hear at 2am at any Scranton pub. Let's just say, things turned a little peculiar following the dessert course. The manager of the hedge fund arose from the table, removed all his clothes and dove into the water. The males on his firm's team followed suit. Every sales person from my bank dutifully jumped in too (all males, in case you were wondering). Yours truly was left at the table with the one woman from the hedge fund and my YFTIA - all looking out the window at a bunch of naked men sitting on a set of rocks. Being an American businessman, I quickly recovered from my schnapps-induced haze and began wondering how I'd explain to human resources the lawsuit my YFTIA was about to file.
In the end, it all turned out fine. The woman from the hedge fund assured me that skinny dipping Swedes were as customary as snooring Japanese managers. The hedge fund manager - who, for the record, doesn't think I am stupid, nor I he - offered me a swimsuit, allowing me to experience the July, still ice-cold waters of Stockholm. And in the end, my YFTIA found the entire experience amusing. Although she did moveback to Delhi not long after.
Upon returning to Stockholm this past January, I thought back upon this experience with a realization that we Americans have much to learn from the Swedes. For one, Americans are way too serious about their work. In Sweden, minimum cumpulsary vacation is five weeks per year. Parents are given a combined 480 days of parental leave - yes dads too. I am ashamed to admit that by the age of two, Ranen termed airplanes "Dadda", while Gideon does the same now to the telephone. He also has a habit of pushing other kids off their dads so he can sit on a dad's lap. And yes, in Sweden, sometimes in the course of doing business, you drink, sing and shed those pin-striped suits for an innocent dip in the water. Can you ever imagine skinny dipping with clients in the Hudson river for the sake of good fun and client relationship building?
We should also remember in the early 1990s Sweden experienced one of the worst banking crises in modern history. The root cause was similar to the crisis in America today. So too, I fear will be the aftermath - a huge government bailout, a surge in unemployment, rising tax burdens and a permanent fall in living standards. What struck me most about my latest visit to Stockholm, however, was the high sense of nostalgia and low sense of angst amongst my Swedish clients. They have been through their own banking crisis and have come out of it. They all feel a little less rich, but also seem more balanced than most Americans I know.
I honestly don't know how America will look in a few years time, when this crisis finally begins to settle. What I do know is America and I will be forever changed. And while I too will look back with some nostalgia on life before (and during) this banking crisis, I am happy to say my experiences in Sweden remind me that no matter what, it is likely to be ok. And when it feels like it isn't, maybe just maybe, I will take a day off, strip off my clothes and take a dip in the Thames.
A Scranton Boy in Chelsea
P.S. The picture up top was taken during a trip Dina and I took to Stockholm. It was far too cold for skinny dipping, but we did enjoy a schnapps or two.
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