END OF ROAD FOR BRITISH ‘FILTHS’ IN HK?
‘Failed in London, Try Hong Kong' expats fade into sunset as China influence grows
ANDREW Sullivan remembers the days when a young Brit could hustle his way into a job in Hong Kong finance. He ought to know: He did it. It was 1996, the twilight of British Hong Kong, when Sullivan arrived with a resume that couldn’t get him into a bank in the City of London. The former fighter pilot and chartered surveyor was soon hired as a stock analyst.
“You didn’t need a CV that was perfect,” said Sullivan, now 55. What you needed, he said, was gumption — and the will to chase business.
But like the Union Jack and other trappings of empire, those days are long gone. Two decades after Britain returned its last major colony, the balance of power in this city, and its financial industry, has tilted decidedly towards all things China.
More and more, even experienced bankers are struggling to find and keep jobs if they don’t speak Mandarin, the lingua franca of the mainland.
The same goes for those without a mastery of China’s business culture, or, more, connections across the border.
For years, the territory’s Chinese, and even its China-savvy expatriates, derisively called indulged Brits ‘Filth’, which stands for ‘Failed In London, Try Hong Kong’.
Expats who might have never worked in the City of London, Europe’s financial hub, could walk into good jobs and cut deals in the soft-carpeted confines of the Hong Kong Club or over a pint at the Captain’s Bar in the Mandarin Oriental.
Now Filth is in terminal decline, its fate seemingly sealed by costcutting throughout the financial industry.
John Mullally, an executive recruiter who runs Robert Walters Plc’s banking practice, here, said as recently as 2010, expatriates from Britain and the rest of Europe, plus those from the United States and Australia, landed 40 per cent of his finance job placements. Today, it is 15 per cent.
Scarce, too, for expats are perks like generous housing allowances and memberships to such elite clubs as the Royal Hong Kong Yacht Club, which, unlike most Hong Kong institutions, has retained its “royal” association — or, for Americans, the American Club.
Ben Quinlan hardly qualifies as Filth. But he’s felt the walls close in. Born here and educated in Australia, he doesn’t speak Mandarin. When he returned here in 2007, he hoped to land a job in investment banking. Instead, he had to settle for one in internal strategy at UBS Group AG, where speaking Chinese wasn’t a requirement.
“Young junior bankers without language skills are so rare these days,” said Quinlan, 33, who now runs his own financial consulting firm.
For the most part, divisional and regional leadership roles here are still held mostly by expatriates. But a new generation of Chinese financial pros, most with language skills and many with top degrees, have filled the lower ranks — and seem destined to rise.
That’s bad news for all expats, Filth or otherwise.
Two decades ago, Sullivan broke into Hong Kong finance as a 35-year-old Royal Air Force veteran with no experience in the industry. He moved on from equity research into a successful career in sales trading, albeit one outside the big leagues of the Goldmans or Morgan Stanleys.
Now his career has taken another turn. After two years working for the Chinese, overseeing sales trading at securities firm Haitong International Securities Group Ltd, on May 31 he was given his marching orders. His position had been made redundant.
He’s looking for a new job here and says he’s had some promising conversations with recruiters. After 20 years, Asia is what he knows.
“I’ve got nothing in common with the United Kingdom now,” he said.