A new check on my list of accomplishments: I gave my first public speech at our official GLOBE graduation. Having suffered from a strong stammer and a fear of public speaking as a child, it was a personal accomplishment. But also taught me first hand why public speaking is so hard.
First, a good speech. You need to have something to say, so unless you are Abraham Lincoln, most public speakers have their speeches written for them. Second, you need to rehearse it so that it feels natural. Ever written something semi-academic and then read it out loud? Sounds absolutely horrific. Short and crisp trumps long and detailed every time. Finally, you have to deliver it forcefully, empathetically, and (to highlight my weakness) slowly. After looking at the same words for so long, you race through the points without thinking twice - make sure other people get them as well.
Public speaking, to me, is one of the greatest skills possibly
acquirable. If you have the gift of oration you can voice
opinions and defeat arguments. You can convey messages in their simplest
form and in their strongest meaning. You can stir emotions and guide actions, and you are able to convince other men to follow your cause. Influential statesmen such as Jefferson, Lincoln, and Churchill have all been magnificent orators. Hitler, probably the greatest orator of the 20th century, is a perverse testimony to the power of speech.
The GLOBE speech was about anything - the only constraint was 5 minutes. Each school picked a speaker, so since there was a risk of them all being the same, I tried to pick a specific topic which all 45 students could still relate to. I wanted to make a point, but without jamming my opinions down other peoples throats. I wanted to speak to everyone individually, but I wanted to speak for everyone collectively. So I decided upon the topic of choice and tried to put some words to the puzzling realization that even after spending 18 months together on GLOBE, why are we now more different than ever before?
It wasn't exactly Pericles' funeral oration, but it went well. I missed a few opportunities to hammer home my points using my voice, and I had a couple of nervous stumbles. My style of writing definitely doesn't appeal to everyone, so not everyone was equally thrilled. But a couple of people complimented it, which I really appreciated, and I learnt from it. A good start to, hopefully, a long list of successful speeches.
GLOBE graduation speech, December 5th 2012. Any names have been removed.
As a child, I had a couple of phobias: heights, public speaking. But my greatest phobia was making the wrong choice. I would therefore try to get as many options as possible, I would try to keep them open for as long as possible, and in the end I would try to make sure I make the best possible choice - whatever that means.
In that sense, GLOBE was perfect for me. It represented unlimited possibilities, especially compared to a structured, student routine in Denmark. For me, GLOBE was the opportunity to learn business, languages, culture, social relations, the opportunity to travel for adventure, for taste, for family living, and simply for pleasure. I t was the opportunity to sharpen my talents and to improve my weaknesses. It was the opportunity to explore and be curious, and to hone in and be focused. It was an opportunity to make networks and friends, and time to focus on personal development.
We all had these opportunities. We were given a million options and told, expected even, to get everything out of it. If I didn’t come back to Denmark having trekked across Indonesia, been swimming with dolphins, become an expert in Chinese cuisine and road-tripped all the way across America, in their eyes, I would not have made the most of GLOBE. With so many options, equally many choices. Now at the close, out of the millions of choices I made, I feel the one with the most impact was: The choice to seek out differences and to try and understand them.
Being bilingual, born and raised in Africa, I thought: “I have experience a fair amount about cultural differences”. But from the very first day on GLOBE, it was evident that there are even more I don't understand: "Why do Americans persistently wear a visible white t-shirt with their otherwise flashy Ralph Lauren shirts?". "How could xxx breakfast simply be a whole liter of full-fat milk?". "And how could xxx be so lazy and still have a higher GPA than me?".
Over time, as I was busy trying to understand you, you all helped me understand myself: "How could I slam the perceived over-ambition of Asians without ever discussing the topic with someone who has tried it?". "Why did I not invite more people back to my parent’s house, when your gratitude for doing so was so obvious?". "And how could I not go to the Library on a Monday night when they have $1 well drinks?".
We began in similar positions in our lives, and we now leave more scattered than ever before. We made strong connections with some people, while others are simply acquaintances. It is as it should be – we made our choices, trying to move towards our dreams and ideals, and GLOBE is simply a point on the path towards that. Now, it has served its purpose, giving us the understanding, experiences, and friends we need to make the next big round of choices in our lives.
My fear of choices often came in justifying them. The “I want to” statement never really resonated well with me. Growing up, being different; the choices I made: to go to school, to work hard – they were all justified by an idea, the vision of “I am going somewhere”. I thought that at some time in my life, I would find people who understood these choices.
I have found many of you in GLOBE. But I was wrong: we shouldn’t have to justify our choices. We shouldn’t have to justify why we spend that extra hour on PowerPoint slides for Private Equity, or why we would want to travel that little bit extra and just settle for a B+. Everyone come from different paths, have different desires, and value their options differently.
So as we move forward in our lives, I hope you all get to make your choices as you see fit. I hope they take you toward that which fulfils you and makes you happy, regardless of whether those choices contain fame, money, family, personal experiences or human salvation. And when your travels take you through Denmark, I hope you’ll choose to give me a call. I promise - you will never have to justify it.
fredag den 7. december 2012
tirsdag den 4. december 2012
Behavioural finance
Recommended by my awesome derivatives professor, I took a behavioural finance course in the final quarter. Spanning the gap between my inherent desire for reason and the obvious realization that the world is not so, it also included elements of psychology, leadership and game theory. Having just finished my final lecture, it is time for contemplation: numerous take-aways, great in-class discussions, extremely competent professor, and (my favourite) a tool to understand why so many things we learn in school are inherently wrong due to human nature.
The best example, and perhaps the most fun, was a game we played: Everyone in the room writes down a number between 0 and 100. The numbers were then all averaged, and the winner of the $20 prize was the person with the number closest to 2/3 of that average. Mathematically there is an optimal solution, but for non-mathematicians, the way to think about it is what happened if you were playing against a large sample of trained baboons. They would write down random numbers between 0 and 100, implying that their average would 50. You should therefore write two-thirds of that number (33) to claim the $20. However, although you may sometimes think so, most of your classmates have more thinking capabilities than your average baboon. They are in business school, have gotten decent grades, and since you figured out that 33 is a good number, they probably will also. Thus the actual average will be 33, so you should write 22. But then they will figure this our as well, so you should write 15 - and so on. This gets you to the realization that the optimal number you should write is 0.
Let us pivot to think about the stock market. If the optimal value of an asset / a firm can be determined, then smart people investing should be able to figure this out and price the asset / firm accordingly. The underlying notion of functioning markets is that investors are rational - implying that the value of the asset / firm is fully reflected in its price.
Back to the game: so far, so good. You are a perfect specimen of rationality, intellectually supreme, and a model student of your University. You are also not going to win the $20. Because the actual game is not picking the correct number, it is essentially assessing what the ratio of baboons to business intellectuals in your class is, and what those baboons are likely to pick as a number. You can also think about the baboon's developing intellectuality, so how many times they go through the problem. Just because he realizes that the average of the class is going to be 50 and puts 33, he may not realize that others will think the same way.
That game, unfortunately, I am less good at. Having played this game several times now, people tend to do 2-3 iterations of the problem, so somewhere between 15 and 20 is a good bet. The smaller the class, the more a potential baboon can wreck havoc and the more other factors will have an effect, such as whether you think the semi-hungover junior in the corner who buttoned his shirt asymmetrically this morning actually understood the rules.
I picked "17" in a small class (13 people), which would have been bang on if only somebody hadn't put 93 (!). Being overly competitive I unfortunately blurted out that that is not even a possible winning number, even if everyone picked 100 - apologies. But is does show that just because you are in a business school, doesn't mean you are not a baboon.
Relating back to the stock market idiom, the takeaway is pretty obvious. It doesn't matter what the true value is, it only matters what people think the true value is. Markets should be inherently efficient, but because people are not, neither will they. If you give a good model to a huge group of baboon investors, the real skill which will create value is understanding baboon psychology. I picked the wrong business major.
The best example, and perhaps the most fun, was a game we played: Everyone in the room writes down a number between 0 and 100. The numbers were then all averaged, and the winner of the $20 prize was the person with the number closest to 2/3 of that average. Mathematically there is an optimal solution, but for non-mathematicians, the way to think about it is what happened if you were playing against a large sample of trained baboons. They would write down random numbers between 0 and 100, implying that their average would 50. You should therefore write two-thirds of that number (33) to claim the $20. However, although you may sometimes think so, most of your classmates have more thinking capabilities than your average baboon. They are in business school, have gotten decent grades, and since you figured out that 33 is a good number, they probably will also. Thus the actual average will be 33, so you should write 22. But then they will figure this our as well, so you should write 15 - and so on. This gets you to the realization that the optimal number you should write is 0.
Let us pivot to think about the stock market. If the optimal value of an asset / a firm can be determined, then smart people investing should be able to figure this out and price the asset / firm accordingly. The underlying notion of functioning markets is that investors are rational - implying that the value of the asset / firm is fully reflected in its price.
Back to the game: so far, so good. You are a perfect specimen of rationality, intellectually supreme, and a model student of your University. You are also not going to win the $20. Because the actual game is not picking the correct number, it is essentially assessing what the ratio of baboons to business intellectuals in your class is, and what those baboons are likely to pick as a number. You can also think about the baboon's developing intellectuality, so how many times they go through the problem. Just because he realizes that the average of the class is going to be 50 and puts 33, he may not realize that others will think the same way.
That game, unfortunately, I am less good at. Having played this game several times now, people tend to do 2-3 iterations of the problem, so somewhere between 15 and 20 is a good bet. The smaller the class, the more a potential baboon can wreck havoc and the more other factors will have an effect, such as whether you think the semi-hungover junior in the corner who buttoned his shirt asymmetrically this morning actually understood the rules.
I picked "17" in a small class (13 people), which would have been bang on if only somebody hadn't put 93 (!). Being overly competitive I unfortunately blurted out that that is not even a possible winning number, even if everyone picked 100 - apologies. But is does show that just because you are in a business school, doesn't mean you are not a baboon.
Relating back to the stock market idiom, the takeaway is pretty obvious. It doesn't matter what the true value is, it only matters what people think the true value is. Markets should be inherently efficient, but because people are not, neither will they. If you give a good model to a huge group of baboon investors, the real skill which will create value is understanding baboon psychology. I picked the wrong business major.
søndag den 2. december 2012
A cappella
One of the idiosyncratic pieces of American campus culture is a cappella. Bands are prestigious, professional, and present everywhere. In the intro weeks, bands would walk around campus, stand outside dorms, and give fantastic exhibitions of rhythm, creativity, and harmony. It is not uncommon to overhead a group of students singing together under their breath. Since a fellow GLOBEr is in a group, I went to his fall concert to be supportive and to see what the commotion was all about.
A cappella is music performed without instruments and originated in from religious chants. At UNC the style is always the same: A group of 12-15 stand in a semi-circle, often in two rows, with a soloist in the centre. Most groups perform popular music which is written with instruments, so there is almost always a beatboxer on one flank keeping a beat and emphasizing the musical climaxes.
The concert was presented by the Tar Heel Voices, UNC's oldest co-ed a cappella group. They sang popular songs from the likes of Taylor Swift and Disney, classics such as Van Morrison's "Brown Eyed Girl" and Earth, Wind and Fire's "September", but also had couple of unknown songs such as my favourite by miles: Delta Rae's "Morning Comes". There were also performances from the UNC Loreleis, the schools oldest all-female a cappella group, a hearty, collective performance of UNC's Alma Mater with the audience, and small theatrical sketches. It was a great way to spend 2 hours a Saturday evening.
What I didn't realize was the amount of dedication that being in such a group requires. The group performs semi-annually and have produced several CD's - indeed the proceeds from the concert goes toward a new album in the spring. The amount of band alumni and their interaction with the group during the concert showed just how strong a bond one gets with the group mates once they being part of the fellowship. On the program, new members of the group were proudly titled "NEWB".
It proved to me once again the American culture of assimilating into sub-groups and defining yourself within those groups. In a ethnically homogeneous society such as Denmark, the group encompasses the nation. In America, the huge influx of immigrants and its sheer size makes such a group impossible. Instead, sub-groups have learned to co-exist (impressive if you look at global history), basing its principles of liberty for the individual. College is a microcosm of this trend, with people coming from around the state and being flung into a new social structure. People then chose their groups and significantly commit. This is a general trend, and exceptions naturally exist, but it helps explain both the lack of extremes in Denmark and the huge expectations of the American groups. This also makes social mobility between groups much harder, both in college and in America in general.
A cappella is music performed without instruments and originated in from religious chants. At UNC the style is always the same: A group of 12-15 stand in a semi-circle, often in two rows, with a soloist in the centre. Most groups perform popular music which is written with instruments, so there is almost always a beatboxer on one flank keeping a beat and emphasizing the musical climaxes.
The concert was presented by the Tar Heel Voices, UNC's oldest co-ed a cappella group. They sang popular songs from the likes of Taylor Swift and Disney, classics such as Van Morrison's "Brown Eyed Girl" and Earth, Wind and Fire's "September", but also had couple of unknown songs such as my favourite by miles: Delta Rae's "Morning Comes". There were also performances from the UNC Loreleis, the schools oldest all-female a cappella group, a hearty, collective performance of UNC's Alma Mater with the audience, and small theatrical sketches. It was a great way to spend 2 hours a Saturday evening.
What I didn't realize was the amount of dedication that being in such a group requires. The group performs semi-annually and have produced several CD's - indeed the proceeds from the concert goes toward a new album in the spring. The amount of band alumni and their interaction with the group during the concert showed just how strong a bond one gets with the group mates once they being part of the fellowship. On the program, new members of the group were proudly titled "NEWB".
It proved to me once again the American culture of assimilating into sub-groups and defining yourself within those groups. In a ethnically homogeneous society such as Denmark, the group encompasses the nation. In America, the huge influx of immigrants and its sheer size makes such a group impossible. Instead, sub-groups have learned to co-exist (impressive if you look at global history), basing its principles of liberty for the individual. College is a microcosm of this trend, with people coming from around the state and being flung into a new social structure. People then chose their groups and significantly commit. This is a general trend, and exceptions naturally exist, but it helps explain both the lack of extremes in Denmark and the huge expectations of the American groups. This also makes social mobility between groups much harder, both in college and in America in general.
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