By now you’ve probably noticed that the rich in America — the “1%” if you will — live differently than the rest of us, the lowly 99%. For instance, when a rich person quits his or her job, it’s not enough simply to just walk into the boss’s office and say, ” I quit.” No, resignation letters must be delivered in the form of an op-ed written for a major news publication.
So that’s what now-former Goldman Sachs employee Greg Smith did today. After miraculously fighting off the mind-altering effects of the Vampire Squid-flavored Kool-Aid he spent over a decade of his life drinking, Smith recently came to his senses to realize that the place he works…wait for it…might be a little corrupt (“I can honestly say that the environment now is as toxic and destructive as I have ever seen it,” he says). Well okay then! So he left by writing “Why I Am Leaving Goldman Sachs,” one of the most unintentionally hilarious humblebrags ever — which the New York Times happily published.
I was selected as one of 10 people (out of a firm of more than 30,000) to appear on our recruiting video, which is played on every college campus we visit around the world. In 2006 I managed the summer intern program in sales and trading in New York for the 80 college students who made the cut, out of the thousands who applied…My proudest moments in life – getting a full scholarship to go from South Africa to Stanford University, being selected as a Rhodes Scholar national finalist, winning a bronze medal for table tennis at the Maccabiah Games in Israel, known as the Jewish Olympics – have all come through hard work, with no shortcuts.
Yes, you read that right — dude just dropped his being a table tennis bronze medalist at the “Jewish Olympics” into his New York Times op-ed resignation letter. Well played, Greg Smith. Enjoy all the a$s you’ll get in the Hamptons this summer with that little biographical nugget floating out there now. Well played, sir.
Naturally, this thing has created a lot of buzz this morning and it’s ripe for parody, so of course the internet responded with lightning speed. The best I’ve seen so far — and it was impressively floating around by 8am — is this: “Why I am leaving the Empire, by Darth Vader.”
For more than a decade I recruited and mentored candidates, some of whom were my secret children, through our gruelling interview process. In 2006 I managed the summer intern program in detecting strange disturbances in the Force for the 80 younglings who made the cut.
I knew it was time to leave when I realised I could no longer speak to these students inside their heads and tell them what a great place this was to work.
How did we get here? The Empire changed the way it thought about leadership. Leadership used to be about ideas, setting an example and killing your former mentor with a light sabre. Today, if you make enough money you will be promoted into a position of influence, even if you have a disturbing lack of faith.
My proudest moments in life – the pod race, being lured over to the Dark Side and winning a bronze medal for mind control ping-pong at the Midi-Chlorian Games – known as the Jedi Olympics – have all come through hard work, with no shortcuts.
God I love you, internet.