The questionable behavior revealed by my patients never ceases to amaze me; nor do the outrageous justifications they nonchalantly tout when ‘explaining’ their deeds.
For instance, during the past 25 years, I have worked with dozens of financial analysts: sector analysts, M&A analysts, hedge fund analysts, and mutual fund analysts. I estimate that at least half of the analysts I’ve treated casually bragged to me how they would share inside/confidential/sensitive information with their parents, siblings, and select friends, so that they could buy positions and make killings.
These are credentialed, trained, highly experienced professionals that certainly know better, working at some of the most well-known firms on the Street. Some even take pride in their notorious behavior, such as one patient who brazenly touted himself as a “Master Thief,” who described to me in detail how he was able to set up an off-shore corporation and subsequently trade through a college buddy from Yale.
In other instances, some of my patients were traders, who, at certain points in their careers, would strategically time trades and/or delay them for micro-seconds in order to maximize profits and minimize losses, based on inside information.
These are illegal practices specifically banned by Securities & Exchange Commission regulations.
Why did they share this information with me?
I am sure it had to do with their need to impress me. That is certainly a defined characteristic of narcissism, this need to astonish and astound, for the purpose of enhancing self-validation, and feeling worthy and superior. This phenomenon forms the psychological underpinning of the “Big Swinging Dick” syndrome so prevalent on the Street. Quite impressive to some I imagine.
They all shared a grandiose sense of entitlement, as well as a thrill for screwing the system, their companies, and their clients.
Equally disturbing (and intriguing, from the perspective of a psychoanalyst) was a common denominator that wound its way through thousands of sessions, hundreds of patients: too many simply lacked the capacity to express sincere remorse, guilt, or shame.
Many did, and they were admirable and heroic. Some, unfortunately, did not or could not.
As a point of disclosure, the majority of my patients have not been financial psychopaths. For the most part, they are psychologically stable people overwhelmed by extreme pressures they face in the financial services industry. The enormity and terror of their pressure can never be minimized. One patient would sleep under his desk, not go home, and work through the night in order to make up for his losses the day before. He would also spend way behind his means as a method to force up his production. He thrived on the roller coaster until he was tamed by psychotropic medications, a crash course I conducted on sleep hygiene, and interest in building his Gyroscope.
Still, some often assumed little responsibility for their actions, because from their perspective, these dirty little secrets were, in fact, the status quo. An undercurrent credo went like this: if the CEOs can do it, why can’t we?