Tombstone

A desperate, perspex bid for immortality.

Office anthropology™ →Go uptown The future’s so bright I have to wear shades, yo. The JC puts on his pith-helmet, grabs his butterfly net and a rucksack full of marmalade sandwiches, and heads into the concrete jungleIndex: Click ᐅ to expand: Work anthropology Tell me more Sign up for our newsletter — or just get in touch: for ½ a weekly 🍺 you get to consult JC. Ask about it here.

Not really the done thing any more — these days one achieves neurotic self-veneration through the medium of industry awards, about which one humble-brags on LinkedIn — but in the ’90s a little perspex block engraved with “TRL100,000,000,000,000,000,000 Floating Rate Notes due 2046” is how capital markets denizens got their kicks and derived their self-worth.

You can imagine how thrilled spouses must have been with that handsome token of all those nights away from home in strip bars in Tokyo working hard on the offering circular.

See also

• Fair, large and liberal