Authored by Leanna Or ( @ai_CIO ), originally posted at Chief Investment Officer magazine,
Asset owners, prepare to nod vigorously.
1. You thought Bill Gross’ resignation was a joke. Or that some unambitious hacker had decided to target institutional investing publications. Then, when it turned out to be true, you’d have given your signed copy of Warren Buffett’s Essays to know what really went down in Newport Beach.
2. Korn/Ferry invited you to apply for the CalPERS CIO job… For the politically allergic among you, that call was like an invite to a party thrown across town by people you find tedious: Nice to be asked, and easy to turn down.
3. … but you were 0% surprised when it went to a wellconnected insider. Those truly pluggedin to the California public scene say they knew Ted Eliopoulos was a shooin all along. But by 2010, everyone had seen the financial crisis coming in 2006, right?
4. You fantasized about running Harvard’s endowment (and what you’d do with the $3 million paycheck). Now this job had some serious appeal, and a much quieter recruitment drive. Correlation? We think so. If CEOinwaiting Stephen Blyth posts another lackluster fiscal year for the world’s largest endowment, he may wish he had given those Korn/Ferry folks the time of day. Ivy League endowments = the Hunger Games of institutional investing.
5. As soon as CalPERS announced it was killing its hedge fund program, you began mentally preparing to defend yours to your board—and then actually had to do so at your next meeting. The tactful CIOs among you rehearsed delicate ways to differentiate your portfolio from the Sacramento giant’s. The cynical mumbled the word “politics,” and the shy emailed their consultant to prep a PowerPoint.
6. You happily opened an email from another CIO only to find out they’d “taken a new opportunity at x hedge fund or asset management firm,” and they’d love to catch up and tell you more about its offerings. Sigh. There’s another one lost to the dark side. Those who’ve crossed over to asset gathering —*cough* Jim Dunn, David Erickson, Patrick Groenendijk, Marina Mekhlis, Tim Walsh *cough*—find your calls do not always get returned within 11 seconds anymore. But, then again, diving Scrooge McDuckstyle into your (well deserved) pool of money is actually very soothing.
7. You never want to hear the phrases “lowrate environment,” “investment solution,” or “tapering” ever again. Or “China’s unwind” or “lowreturn projections” or “quantitative easing” or “I’ve learned so much working for you these last few years and will really miss the team… but <insert asset management firm> made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
8. Seeing Mark Wiseman on top of the Power 100 list—again—was a total bore. What a surprise! A bunch of Canadians picked one of their countrymen as the most important investor on earth. (But fiiiine, that Alibaba deal was pretty cool.)
9. You flew coach on a business trip. While your organization may not mandate economy for short trips, you’ve done the math and $400/hour for an unnumb butt just isn’t a value proposition you can handle. Plus, you know who else flies coach? Mark Wiseman.
10. A new acquaintance asked you for “hot stock tips” or “insider info” when you told them what you do for a living. Then you had to patiently explain that with $50 billion to invest, you don’t have time to dig through annual reports comparing Ford and Honda’s ability to capitalize on advances in fuel efficiency technology. You pay people to do that for you. And as for “insider info”? You had to grab this poor soul by the lapels, pull them in close, and threaten bodily harm if they “ever, ever write that phrase in an email” to you.
11. You dealt with an “investor relations” specialist who didn’t seem to know anything about investing, but sure knew her way around a miniskirt.
12. You know oneyear returns are irrelevant for your long time horizon… but you couldn’t help scoping out your peer’s performance for FY2014, and being secretly amped when you topped them, or disappointed when you didn’t. If you work at highend endowment, your delight was notsosecret. In fact, it was reflected in your paycheck.
13. Your spouse is so tired of hearing you rant about that one board member. “Yes, dear, I know he’s very frustrating and refuses to understand what basis points are/how risk parity works/why shifting to an allpassive allocation is a bad idea at this point in the cycle. No, dear, I’m sure he’s not doing that intentionally to make you want to stab yourself in the eye with a pen. And, sweetheart, I think you’ve had enough Scotch for one night.”
14. One of your best young team members appeared on the Forty Under Forty… and promptly asked for a raise. Stop cursing us and give them one—or someone else will.
15. You shuddered when your CFO/executive director mentioned he’d had a lunch with Caitlin Long—pensionrisk transfer arrangerinchief for Morgan Stanley—or anyone on the bulk annuity team at Prudential. Why is he going to Newark on business again?? That’s two trips in the last four months! What’s even in Newark anyway?!? Maybe he’s there visiting that big public plan everyone’s always talking about. Yeah, maybe that’s it. But it would seem so paranoid to ask…
16. You care way more about your Power 100 portrait than the profile that went with it. Who knew a group of altruisticoriented finance nerds could be so… touchy? For those of you still eagerly awaiting the CIO portrait treatment, we have two pieces of advice. One: That business headshot you last had done in the mid’90s is not your friend. How’s the artist to know feathered bangs and Seinfeld glasses aren’t just your thing? Two: When the Power 100 debut comes, your team will take literally any excuse to rib you—because they’re burning with jealousy that you made the cut. Sleep with one eye open.
17. As much as your job occasionally makes you want to bang your head against your desk, meeting an appreciative member/student/citizen/beneficiary makes it all worthwhile. At least until PIMCO asks whether you’d be willing to help fill Bill Gross’ shoes.
via Zero Hedge http://ift.tt/1IsBBtg Tyler Durden