08-10-2007, 01:25 AM
HuffingtonPost.com- Who Wants To Be A Canadian, Eh?
By David Bledin
<!-- m --><a class="postlink" href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/david-bledin/who-wants-to-be-a-canadia_b_59860.html">http://www.huffingtonpost.com/david-ble ... 59860.html</a><!-- m -->
We Canadians are a patriotic bunch. Our love for our country goes beyond the usual boasts of hockey prowess and sweet, sweet maple syrup. It's in the details: ordering a double-double (double cream, double sugar = instant diabetic coma) coffee from Tim Hortons, the Canadian donut store that also happens to make Plato's perfect form of a chocolate glazed cruller, the chocolate glazed cruller that all other chocolate glazed crullers can only aspire to become; being so sloshed on pints of Molson that we can't remember our mothers' names, and yet are still able to recite the "I Am Canadian" rant off by heart; rolling our eyes when philistine foreigners assume we live in igloos and cruise around on dog sleds, even though we're all harboring fond memories of building rudimentary igloos in our backyards during the height of winter, patting down and hollowing out snow mounds until the ceilings eventually caved in.
More often than not, our cultural identity is defined by what we aren't, vis-à-vis the United States: Toronto is New York without the garbage and maniacal taxi drivers; Vancouver is Seattle with better skiing; Celine Dion is Whitney Houston without the crack problem and ghetto ex-husband (instead, she has her own sleazy manager-turned-husband with a gambling problem). In short, Canada is Canada because it's not the 51st American state.
It's a shame, then, that with such a bevy of natural resources -- lush forests and shimmering lakes and immaculate chocolate glazed crullers -- we are still a nation that validates ourselves by our accomplishments south of the border. Canuck artists have long been divided into two camps, those who have achieved a greater legitimacy by penetrating MTV (Celine Dion, Bryan Adams, Avril Lavigne) and those who haven't (Moist, The Tragically Hip, Our Lady Peace). Never is this validation more pronounced than in the corporate world, especially high finance. A few years of toiling away on Wall Street guarantees the young upstart with a plum job at any Canadian bank upon returning to the frozen motherland. Canadian private equity firms like Onex rarely hire anyone who doesn't come with a degree from Harvard Business School.
Given these circumstances, it comes as no surprise that in my final year at McGill, in Montreal, every finance major was battling tooth and nail to secure analyst positions at the bulge bracket U.S. firms: JP Morgan, Morgan Stanley, Goldman Sachs. Aside from the prestige and validation component, these banks offered the chance to live in Canada while earning a U.S.-denominated salary. In 2002, with an exchange rate of 65 U.S. cents to the Canadian dollar, it was an unbeatable package.
Now, for the first time in my lifetime, the Canadian dollar is poised to leapfrog the Greenback. While the close-to-parity exchange rate has been disastrous for Canadian export-heavy manufacturers, it has completely changed the incentives for talented Canadians contemplating offers to work in the States. There is no denying that bankers will always work on bigger, sexier deals on Wall Street than on Bay Street, in Toronto, but the plumpest dangling carrot -- the paycheck -- just isn't what it used to be. It's an even wilder notion to take this sentiment further, to imagine the Canadian dollar eventually surpassing the U.S. dollar, a very plausible reality given the recent momentum. Suddenly, there is an opportunity cost of the extra prestige from a Goldman Sachs job, since most finance positions north and south of the border have comparable absolute pay, and Canadian bankers might find themselves earning more than their U.S. counterparts. One can only imagine a "reverse brain drain," where Ivy League grads are vying for positions at the Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce.
Of course, archaic notions of validation take a long time to wither away. It's one of the reasons why I'll be heading down to the States to start up an MBA next week. Though I'll miss my Tim Hortons chocolate glazed crullers, it still seems like too good of an opportunity to pass up.
By David Bledin
<!-- m --><a class="postlink" href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/david-bledin/who-wants-to-be-a-canadia_b_59860.html">http://www.huffingtonpost.com/david-ble ... 59860.html</a><!-- m -->
We Canadians are a patriotic bunch. Our love for our country goes beyond the usual boasts of hockey prowess and sweet, sweet maple syrup. It's in the details: ordering a double-double (double cream, double sugar = instant diabetic coma) coffee from Tim Hortons, the Canadian donut store that also happens to make Plato's perfect form of a chocolate glazed cruller, the chocolate glazed cruller that all other chocolate glazed crullers can only aspire to become; being so sloshed on pints of Molson that we can't remember our mothers' names, and yet are still able to recite the "I Am Canadian" rant off by heart; rolling our eyes when philistine foreigners assume we live in igloos and cruise around on dog sleds, even though we're all harboring fond memories of building rudimentary igloos in our backyards during the height of winter, patting down and hollowing out snow mounds until the ceilings eventually caved in.
More often than not, our cultural identity is defined by what we aren't, vis-à-vis the United States: Toronto is New York without the garbage and maniacal taxi drivers; Vancouver is Seattle with better skiing; Celine Dion is Whitney Houston without the crack problem and ghetto ex-husband (instead, she has her own sleazy manager-turned-husband with a gambling problem). In short, Canada is Canada because it's not the 51st American state.
It's a shame, then, that with such a bevy of natural resources -- lush forests and shimmering lakes and immaculate chocolate glazed crullers -- we are still a nation that validates ourselves by our accomplishments south of the border. Canuck artists have long been divided into two camps, those who have achieved a greater legitimacy by penetrating MTV (Celine Dion, Bryan Adams, Avril Lavigne) and those who haven't (Moist, The Tragically Hip, Our Lady Peace). Never is this validation more pronounced than in the corporate world, especially high finance. A few years of toiling away on Wall Street guarantees the young upstart with a plum job at any Canadian bank upon returning to the frozen motherland. Canadian private equity firms like Onex rarely hire anyone who doesn't come with a degree from Harvard Business School.
Given these circumstances, it comes as no surprise that in my final year at McGill, in Montreal, every finance major was battling tooth and nail to secure analyst positions at the bulge bracket U.S. firms: JP Morgan, Morgan Stanley, Goldman Sachs. Aside from the prestige and validation component, these banks offered the chance to live in Canada while earning a U.S.-denominated salary. In 2002, with an exchange rate of 65 U.S. cents to the Canadian dollar, it was an unbeatable package.
Now, for the first time in my lifetime, the Canadian dollar is poised to leapfrog the Greenback. While the close-to-parity exchange rate has been disastrous for Canadian export-heavy manufacturers, it has completely changed the incentives for talented Canadians contemplating offers to work in the States. There is no denying that bankers will always work on bigger, sexier deals on Wall Street than on Bay Street, in Toronto, but the plumpest dangling carrot -- the paycheck -- just isn't what it used to be. It's an even wilder notion to take this sentiment further, to imagine the Canadian dollar eventually surpassing the U.S. dollar, a very plausible reality given the recent momentum. Suddenly, there is an opportunity cost of the extra prestige from a Goldman Sachs job, since most finance positions north and south of the border have comparable absolute pay, and Canadian bankers might find themselves earning more than their U.S. counterparts. One can only imagine a "reverse brain drain," where Ivy League grads are vying for positions at the Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce.
Of course, archaic notions of validation take a long time to wither away. It's one of the reasons why I'll be heading down to the States to start up an MBA next week. Though I'll miss my Tim Hortons chocolate glazed crullers, it still seems like too good of an opportunity to pass up.