I don’t understand why people work ridiculously long and hard hours in Wall Street or the City for more money than they could ever use. Observably they do it, but I don’t understand why. (I have friends who work in the City because they find this stuff fascinating—that I can understand better—but most of them don’t.) Reasons when asked include “it’s a job”, “it’s ehh okay if I have to work” but somehow that doesn’t seem to explain it to me (so perhaps it’s just me).
“More money than they could ever use” seems like the wrong part there. I have uses for arbitrarily large amounts of money—feel free to refer me if they need tips.
For example, for several billion dollars you could surely get another season of Firefly.
People consistently choose more money over increased leisure. So it’s not unique to this situation. I think the assumption is that the option for leisure will always be there but the option to make lots of money won’t be. This is colloquially known as “get while the getting’s good.” Though I’m sure there are other reasons as well.
You may also be poorly calibrated on how much money one can use.
Quite possibly. On contemplation, I suspect my original confusion is typical mind fallacy with ugh field—I worked at a place tangentially linked to the City several years ago, and mostly I felt that our customers were, each and every one, prima facie arguments in favour of a particularly bloody socialist revolution. And I hated every second individually. Even though the work itself was pretty close to what I do right now. So yeah, not a good fit.
(I presently work at a small publishing company where things are considerably easier-going. I can also work from home pretty much any day I need to, which is quite a few of them. And the money’s good for non-City Unix sysadmin.)
Here’s a partial explanation—a contributing element.
Do they have an option for working shorter hours at the same hourly rate? I suspect not (employers will much prefer those willing to put in long hours once the tradition is in place). So people who want to make a lot of money have to work hard now and plan to switch to a lower paid job once they’ve saved enough. But switching to a lower paid job (or stopping working for profit if you’re rich enough) is psychologically unpleasant and culturally discouraged, and people will keep putting it off. Or it may be hard psychologically to live modestly while making a lot of money.
This is effectively why my mother claims to have quit her veterinary practice: she didn’t want to keep working 70 hours a week and she couldn’t do it as a 9-5 job.
Such situations probably aren’t due to a widespread evil “tradition” among employers, but rather due to the fact that a skilled worker’s average productivity-per-hour is typically maximized at a high number of hours-per-week. Any medical professional, for instance, needs to spend many hours per week just keeping up with advances in treatment options, changes in regulations, etc, but overhead hours are wasted unless they’re amortized over even more hours spent actually administering treatment.
a skilled worker’s average productivity-per-hour is typically maximized at a high number of hours-per-week
That would be great. The problem—present in some professions—is that productivity per hour drops, but you can still add more hours and get higher total productivity until it drops all the way to zero.
By adding more hours your productivity today may increase while your productivity tomorrow drops, because you didn’t have enough sleep, because your neglected relationships are falling apart (and your bad mood affects your productivity at work), etc.
But today, it feels like a net gain.
And tomorrow… well, you will probably have to work overtime to compensate for your decreasing productivity. Also to keep up with your colleagues who are still in their “today” phase.
I agree that sometimes it makes rational sense to work harder than usual. But I also think humans are bad at calculating all the consequences. The work life gives us exact numbers as a feedback, while the personal life mostly gives us only a feeling that something is wrong… until the consequences accumulate and one gets some kind of boolean feedback, such as a divorce or a heart stroke, but by then it’s kind of late to make a balance. So I guess most people in these professions err on the side of working more than is optimal for the best cost-to-output ratio. Problem is, when the other people are doing it, standing out of the crowd is usually very bad signalling.
I have a colleague who worked in the City for a few years (programming, not finance). The money was great, but eventually he looked around at the people he worked with, saw exactly what you’ve seen, and got out.
They have commitments to their families, a million a year feels like poverty after you’re used to living on two million, and every day they add another thread to the ropes holding them in place.
If it’s a highly sought-after high-status job, there may be oodles of takers for every getter. The sheer amount of competition may force their hand, and the “it’s a job” may be simply a case of this.
Another possibility is the sunk cost fallacy. If the job requirements are strict enough and the people who eventually get the job have had to sacrifice enough getting there, that alone may be enough to get them to stick with it. Add some social pressure for spice as desired. Stir with self-deception and serve with verbal rationalizations.
I don’t work in finance because I’m currently in university, but I may work in finance after I graduate. I might get a CFA charter and work at a hedge fund. One draw of working in finance is the earning potential.
For me, the appeal of a lot of money seems to be three things: I want enough money so that (1) I never have to worry about my own personal financials, (2) I can do a lot of optimal philanthropy, and (3) can fund my intellectual goals, like writing and publishing a book.
Those are the top three that come to mind. Given all we know about introspection, it’s very unlikely those three are the whole story. But I think it’s at least somewhat accurate.
Also, as thomblake points out, I can certainly find uses from arbitrarily large amounts of wealth. I suppose there’s a theoretical limit at which the marginal utility of an extra dollar is less than the marginal utility of the time I give up to earn it. But I certainly haven’t reach it yet. If your friends have, I want to know where they work so I can apply.
I suppose there’s a theoretical limit at which the marginal utility of an extra dollar is less than the marginal utility of the time I give up to earn it. But I certainly haven’t reach it yet. If your friends have, I want to know where they work so I can apply.
This depends on one’s utility function… and all the cognitive mistakes they make evaluating it.
For someone who feels their free time is very important (even if they later waste it procrastinating online) and who has covered their basic expenses and can’t imagine an attractive enough use of a marginally more money, it is rather easy to get to this point.
And by the way, the ability to fund your goals, such as writing and publishing a book, is pointless if you don’t have time to actually write the book. I assume your strategy is to make money now and write the book later. This is a valid strategy, just don’t forget to stop making money and start writing the book, when the right moment comes.
I don’t understand why people work ridiculously long and hard hours in Wall Street or the City for more money than they could ever use.
My brother works long hours on Wall Street. He says that most people in finance retire significantly earlier than the rest of the population. He also says that people working in finance generally value money more than time, and that this is a self-reinforcing system. People not willing to work long hours for a high hourly rate don’t find the jobs attractive, and the people already hired prefer not to have extra help; the money to hire each extra person would, essentially, come directly out of their own salaries.
I don’t understand why people work ridiculously long and hard hours in Wall Street or the City for more money than they could ever use. Observably they do it, but I don’t understand why. (I have friends who work in the City because they find this stuff fascinating—that I can understand better—but most of them don’t.) Reasons when asked include “it’s a job”, “it’s ehh okay if I have to work” but somehow that doesn’t seem to explain it to me (so perhaps it’s just me).
“More money than they could ever use” seems like the wrong part there. I have uses for arbitrarily large amounts of money—feel free to refer me if they need tips.
For example, for several billion dollars you could surely get another season of Firefly.
People consistently choose more money over increased leisure. So it’s not unique to this situation. I think the assumption is that the option for leisure will always be there but the option to make lots of money won’t be. This is colloquially known as “get while the getting’s good.” Though I’m sure there are other reasons as well.
You may also be poorly calibrated on how much money one can use.
Quite possibly. On contemplation, I suspect my original confusion is typical mind fallacy with ugh field—I worked at a place tangentially linked to the City several years ago, and mostly I felt that our customers were, each and every one, prima facie arguments in favour of a particularly bloody socialist revolution. And I hated every second individually. Even though the work itself was pretty close to what I do right now. So yeah, not a good fit.
(I presently work at a small publishing company where things are considerably easier-going. I can also work from home pretty much any day I need to, which is quite a few of them. And the money’s good for non-City Unix sysadmin.)
Here’s a partial explanation—a contributing element.
Do they have an option for working shorter hours at the same hourly rate? I suspect not (employers will much prefer those willing to put in long hours once the tradition is in place). So people who want to make a lot of money have to work hard now and plan to switch to a lower paid job once they’ve saved enough. But switching to a lower paid job (or stopping working for profit if you’re rich enough) is psychologically unpleasant and culturally discouraged, and people will keep putting it off. Or it may be hard psychologically to live modestly while making a lot of money.
This is effectively why my mother claims to have quit her veterinary practice: she didn’t want to keep working 70 hours a week and she couldn’t do it as a 9-5 job.
Such situations probably aren’t due to a widespread evil “tradition” among employers, but rather due to the fact that a skilled worker’s average productivity-per-hour is typically maximized at a high number of hours-per-week. Any medical professional, for instance, needs to spend many hours per week just keeping up with advances in treatment options, changes in regulations, etc, but overhead hours are wasted unless they’re amortized over even more hours spent actually administering treatment.
That would be great. The problem—present in some professions—is that productivity per hour drops, but you can still add more hours and get higher total productivity until it drops all the way to zero.
By adding more hours your productivity today may increase while your productivity tomorrow drops, because you didn’t have enough sleep, because your neglected relationships are falling apart (and your bad mood affects your productivity at work), etc.
But today, it feels like a net gain.
And tomorrow… well, you will probably have to work overtime to compensate for your decreasing productivity. Also to keep up with your colleagues who are still in their “today” phase.
I agree that sometimes it makes rational sense to work harder than usual. But I also think humans are bad at calculating all the consequences. The work life gives us exact numbers as a feedback, while the personal life mostly gives us only a feeling that something is wrong… until the consequences accumulate and one gets some kind of boolean feedback, such as a divorce or a heart stroke, but by then it’s kind of late to make a balance. So I guess most people in these professions err on the side of working more than is optimal for the best cost-to-output ratio. Problem is, when the other people are doing it, standing out of the crowd is usually very bad signalling.
Ooh, I think that’s probably a big one. Lawyers get the same.
I have a colleague who worked in the City for a few years (programming, not finance). The money was great, but eventually he looked around at the people he worked with, saw exactly what you’ve seen, and got out.
They have commitments to their families, a million a year feels like poverty after you’re used to living on two million, and every day they add another thread to the ropes holding them in place.
If it’s a highly sought-after high-status job, there may be oodles of takers for every getter. The sheer amount of competition may force their hand, and the “it’s a job” may be simply a case of this.
Another possibility is the sunk cost fallacy. If the job requirements are strict enough and the people who eventually get the job have had to sacrifice enough getting there, that alone may be enough to get them to stick with it. Add some social pressure for spice as desired. Stir with self-deception and serve with verbal rationalizations.
I don’t work in finance because I’m currently in university, but I may work in finance after I graduate. I might get a CFA charter and work at a hedge fund. One draw of working in finance is the earning potential.
For me, the appeal of a lot of money seems to be three things: I want enough money so that (1) I never have to worry about my own personal financials, (2) I can do a lot of optimal philanthropy, and (3) can fund my intellectual goals, like writing and publishing a book.
Those are the top three that come to mind. Given all we know about introspection, it’s very unlikely those three are the whole story. But I think it’s at least somewhat accurate.
Also, as thomblake points out, I can certainly find uses from arbitrarily large amounts of wealth. I suppose there’s a theoretical limit at which the marginal utility of an extra dollar is less than the marginal utility of the time I give up to earn it. But I certainly haven’t reach it yet. If your friends have, I want to know where they work so I can apply.
This depends on one’s utility function… and all the cognitive mistakes they make evaluating it.
For someone who feels their free time is very important (even if they later waste it procrastinating online) and who has covered their basic expenses and can’t imagine an attractive enough use of a marginally more money, it is rather easy to get to this point.
And by the way, the ability to fund your goals, such as writing and publishing a book, is pointless if you don’t have time to actually write the book. I assume your strategy is to make money now and write the book later. This is a valid strategy, just don’t forget to stop making money and start writing the book, when the right moment comes.
nods
I agree.
My brother works long hours on Wall Street. He says that most people in finance retire significantly earlier than the rest of the population. He also says that people working in finance generally value money more than time, and that this is a self-reinforcing system. People not willing to work long hours for a high hourly rate don’t find the jobs attractive, and the people already hired prefer not to have extra help; the money to hire each extra person would, essentially, come directly out of their own salaries.
Perhaps they simply enjoy the work ?