Joris Luyendijk’s “Swimming with Sharks” (also published as “This is Not an Investment Recommendation”) offered a rare and unsettling glimpse into the culture of the London financial sector. While the book itself primarily focused on Luyendijk’s experiences as an anthropologist observing the daily lives and thought processes of bankers, a lesser-explored, yet equally significant, element within the narrative lies in the fleeting glimpses of their personal lives. This includes the hinted-at perspectives of their partners, often ex-girlfriends, who bore witness to the less glamorous side of high finance.
Although not directly interviewed or given substantial voice in the book, these individuals emerge as shadowy figures, alluded to through anecdotes and observations made by the bankers themselves. Their experiences, as filtered through the male-dominated lens of Luyendijk’s subjects, suggest a significant toll taken on personal relationships by the demanding and ethically ambiguous nature of the industry.
One recurring theme is the sheer amount of time devoted to work. Long hours, intense pressure, and a culture of presenteeism leave little room for personal connection. Bankers’ dedication to their careers often eclipses their commitment to their partners. This constant imbalance undoubtedly contributed to relationship strain, leading to resentment and, ultimately, breakups. The ex-girlfriends, then, represent the collateral damage of a system that prioritizes profit above all else.
Beyond the time commitment, the book subtly reveals the moral compromises made within the financial sector. The bankers’ own descriptions of their jobs, often laced with cynicism and a detached disregard for the wider consequences of their actions, paint a picture of a world where ethical boundaries are frequently blurred. It’s reasonable to assume that these ethical dilemmas spilled over into their personal lives, creating friction and unease within their relationships. How could one reconcile the image of a loving partner with the ruthless pursuit of profit often required in the finance world? The unspoken voices of the ex-girlfriends likely hold answers to that question, reflecting the struggles of navigating a relationship with someone whose professional life was increasingly at odds with their personal values.
In conclusion, while Luyendijk’s book doesn’t explicitly give voice to the ex-girlfriends of the bankers he interviewed, their presence is felt nonetheless. They represent the human cost of a system that prioritizes financial gain over all else. Their experiences, though indirectly portrayed, offer a sobering counterpoint to the often-glamorized image of high finance, reminding us of the sacrifices made – and the hearts broken – in the relentless pursuit of wealth.