Two charity sector workers speak about the difficulty of leaving the City, and the untapped potential of those they left behindImagine you work for a multinational corporation or global bank and one day you go over to the other side? Today's interviewees did just that. For eight years Will Martindale (30) worked at JP Morgan and then BNP Paribas, only to jump ship and join Oxfam. He was joined by Erinch Sahan (31) from Australia, who left Procter & Gamble for Oxfam. Their mission: to bring their knowledge and expertise to bear on finance and the corporate world.This is controversial stuff in the NGO world and both are very happy to come into the comment thread below to answer your questions. Here are their answers to mine:WillWhen I handed in my resignation, my colleagues didn't quite know how to respond. Usually in an investment bank when you announce you're leaving, it's because you got a more lucrative job offer. So they will go: "Okay, how much?" [to make you stay]. But when I told them I was going to work for Oxfam for a fraction my salary, well, what do you say to that? They did ask: "Can't we send you to Singapore? Give a good relocation package?" But I didn't want to go Singapore. I wanted to work for Oxfam in London.People always knew that I was relatively leftwing, so in that sense it probably didn't come as a complete surprise. A couple of colleagues called me a tree hugger but most expressed support. Some suddenly told me about their own projects. Turned out that one of the bank's guys in emerging markets research had a wife who ran an ethical tea plantation. I had no idea.I started JP Morgan's graduate scheme in 2006. I never intended to work there for more than a year, but you get caught up and the job becomes a lifestyle. You work very long hours, surrounded by people who do the same, and they become your friends. You are all on a similar income, you eat at the same type of restaurants, go on the same kind of holidays, live in the same kind of apartments, develop the same hobbies. In all you get a slightly distorted view of the challenges other people face. You don't see poverty, if only because you go to work very early, and come home late, often taking a cab provided by the bank. Where I live in Battersea there are increasingly two communities, one very rich and one very poor. The only places the two might meet is at Clapham Junction and the odd shop.Many investment bankers will be in this life for 20 years, then a few more years at a hedge fund, and that'll be it. I always knew that was not for me.When I had been with JP Morgan for nine or ten months, they sent me to New York to run a CDO trading platform there. I would be working trades with exposures of hundreds of millions of dollars. I was so junior, 23 or so!I remember when someone from the American regulatory agency the Securities and Exchange Commission came over to shadow me for a day. He was very young, too, and had no real understanding of what I was doing. There was no way that he could challenge even a green junior banker like me. Back then, the quality of regulators was so weak.My Damascene conversion, if you will, came during the financial crisis when Bear Stearns fell. There were a number of trades outstanding between JP Morgan and Bear Stearns and we went over to price them up. Now, usually when there's a trade of the kind I was in, if I am 5 million up, you must be 5 million down. It's zero sum. But when we looked at it up-close, it turned out that while our models said that we were say 3.5 million up, their models stated that they were up, too, by 2.5 million! That drove home the point for me how flimsy risk management structures really were.Moving to an NGO wasn't always easy. First there's the vernacular. I would get asked what I thought of the rights-based approach to development? I had no idea. I could tell you about the delta on CDSs, though. Also, you make sacrifices. Before taking this job I went on holiday to Vietnam, staying in very nice hotels ... I realised that this would no longer be possible, I had said goodbye to that kind of lifestyle.I remember thinking the first few weeks at Oxfam: wow, I can work from home, this is nice, have the cricket on ... Very soon I found myself working harder than I ever had in the bank, because now I cared. That's the big difference with banking in the end. Work becomes something very different if you believe in what you're doing.There are a lot more people like us making the change than outsiders might think. Oxfam's Rob Nash did the same as me. He left Lehman Brothers where he was on the stock-lending desk, to work in the non-profit sector on financial aspects of sustainable development and poverty reduction. One colleague at JP Morgan became a maths teacher, another at BNP Paribas set up a retirement home. Also, there are far more people inside corporations and banks who want to make the world a better place. So why don't they join Oxfam or other NGOs? One reason might be the golden handcuffs. They've settled into the lifestyle, sent their children to expensive schools ... Neither of us have kids.In finance, one factor is the absence of effective unions who could be a voice for the collective. Especially with the low job security, it becomes all about survival in the firm. Which may be why it is increasingly male as you go up in these organisations. I remember the structured credit desk at BNP Paribas had just one woman trader.There's this huge untapped potential in banks, and we should try to tap it. Why do lawyers have a pro bono system but bankers don't? So we are now working on a project where bankers help to empower people by making them more financially literate. At the same we are running a series of seminars for Oxfam employees called "banks, bankers, and banking", to improve the internal understanding of the sector.ErinchI escaped twice. I started professional life in financial law. That was the most boring thing on earth, I cannot imagine why anybody would want to become a corporate lawyer. Also, I just had no idea what it actually was I was doing. So I escaped to Procter & Gamble, where at least I understood the products we were selling. But then I discovered that I just couldn't motivate myself to do this, so I escaped again.When I announced I was leaving, I felt this instant reaction among colleagues like "you were always different from us.' They seemed to say, it was natural for you to leave, and natural for the rest of us to stay. Our world is not rocked.In a way they were right, I never really bought into the corporate culture at Procter & Gamble. I did haircare brands for the Australia and New Zealand market. The culture was super-competitive, all about crushing our competitor. I remember my colleague sitting next to me, who did Duracel. There he was, cheering when the new sales figures showed he had beaten Energizer. I didn't do fist pumps when we had sold more stuff than Unilever because I just didn't buy into the company's mission, that all that mattered was how to sell more stuff, how to design shampoo pumps that gave out more shampoo than the customer needed so that they'd end up buying more shampoo.I still have my farewell email, in which I told my colleagues, look, you can have a far greater impact from the inside than I could ever have from the outside. There are people who care working for these big multinational companies. The thing is: market structures mean that the ones who rise to the top are those who are focussed on short-term sales and profit.Before joining Oxfam I also worked for a government agency for a while, and it really hit me how political things were there, how important perception management is. So there it is: in business you work within very narrow profit parameters, while in government the politicians don't trust the bureaucrats so they won't give you much space to work in either. This is what I totally love about Oxfam, there aren't these paths laid out for you. I have been working for months now on this "behind the brands" scorecard for food companies, ranking them for how they manage land, women, farmers, workers, climate, transparency and water in their supply chains. I found myself reading company's CSR reports on weekends, even during my holiday. When I have a good idea now, I can act on it. For example, we now have an indicator for how transparent corporations are about their lobbying activities.Some corporations present corporate social responsibility (CSR) simply as the smart thing to do. But there is certainly not always a business case for ethical behaviour. Pressure is needed. We have to work with corporations that want to change, but even more so, we must call out those who don't.It's messy. I have been to farms in Africa where female workers have to trade sexual favours for jobs. As a multinational corporation, why would you want to get involved in that? But if you're buying that farm's products, you have a responsibility.There is this buffer in banks made up of the people doing CSR. What we want is not only engage with them, but beyond them, with the actual bankers making the decisions. We believe it could help that we speak their language, and understand how finance and business work.Yes, there will always be people saying about corporations and banks, "what's the point of engaging with them? They're all evil anyway." Some in the NGO world tend to see companies as one whole, but it's a collection of individuals embroiled in all sorts of debates and conflicts. NGOs could help set-off internal debates in these companies, help shape the internal political economy of these corporations. We must empower insiders. Provide them with evidence to help them in their internal battles, work out how we can best push from the outside to help those on the inside. We need to tap into internal debates in companies.For a number of years now Oxfam has worked with parliamentarians to help them see what life is like for poor communities. Why not do the same for bankers? That would be quite something, imagine twenty white guys in a refugee camp in east Congo, all of them connected to trade in the minerals mined there? I wonder about the impact of that. My first night in a refugee camp was unforgettable. The smells, the air of intimidation. I thought to myself, "I am never going to survive this, and I am leaving first thing in the morning." But I did survive, I stayed on and it changed me forever.Financial sectorCharitiesVoluntary sectorBankingJoris Luyendijkguardian.co.uk © 2013 Guardian News and Media Limited or its affiliated companies. All rights reserved. | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds
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