GUEST COMMENT: I can think of nothing more nauseating than doing an MBA
During my banking career I perceived undertaking an MBA as marginally less desirable than running naked through Battersea Dogs Home with Pedigree Chum smeared on my gonads. An MBA seemed to entail a lot of tedious work surrounded by dreadfully dull pinheads that ultimately resulted in very little benefit for your career.
There were two basic options - the two year part-time course that you pursued whilst still working and the full-time course that you had to take ten months off to complete.
Just thinking about the part-time MBA used to make me break out in hives taking into account the hideous eleven hour days I was already being forced to endure whilst the full-time course seemed like a perfect opportunity to lose all your client contacts and get totally out of touch with the market. Neither of these two outcomes struck me as being especially beneficial.
And what exactly would one gain to compensate for these risks?
The MBA would not help me with my very specific role as an equity analyst as the courses were invariably general in content. It might have provided a half-decent networking opportunity but I always suspected I'd meet people more likely to further my career down at Spearmint Rhino. No, the only benefit it might provide would be if, for some sick and twisted reason, I decided to become part of my bank's management team.
But why on God's clean earth would anyone with more than two brain cells to rub together ever contemplate such a move?
You'd have to be smoking crack to even consider managing the Machiavellian, money-grabbing egotists that populate the average investment bank's trading floor.
All these buffoons ever do is clumsily kiss your bony arse whilst coating you off to each other behind your back. What's worse is that their gargantuan egos mean that they never listen to your advice, which is why my former head of sales referred to his job as 'herding cats'. Your utterances are routinely ignored and within weeks it becomes clear that you're about as useful as a condom vending machine at the Vatican.
Furthermore, every December you have to endure your workers' feigned outrage as you hand them millions in bonuses despite the fact that you're often not paid half as much as the feckless degenerates you're managing.
To add insult to injury, everyone knows administrative heads are universally regarded as failed brokers who couldn't cut it on the trading floor.
In fact, every banking manager has to accept he's being dismissed by the treacherous, disloyal toads beneath him as a 'cost-base' and not a 'revenue generator' - surely, the worst insult for anyone at a bank.
An MBA is just a gateway to a whole world of pain; I would not wish it on my worst enemy.
Geraint Anderson is author of 'Cityboy - Beer and Loathing in the Square Mile'