Finance, corporate law and management consulting. The Holy Trinity of “But what do you actually do?” And yet, for jobs with seemingly limited substance, we are drawn to them like moths to a flame. Whether engineer, Engling or education student, their temptation is universal. But by taking these jobs, we throw away our ability to ‘do good’ (whatever that means), and I find it depressing to watch so much talent and ambition go to waste.

In his recent Financial Times article – and our subsequent conversation – Simon Van Teutem provided me with some important insight about this world. We, the ‘insecure overachievers’, have spent the majority of our lives seeking excellence with the goal of reaching Oxbridge and, upon arrival, become lost in the Bermudan Triangle of jobs. In eras of endless crises, we came to Cambridge dreaming of solutions and desiring to change the world. Yet within a few short years, we’re writing cover letters to JP Morgan describing our newfound passion for investment banking. How on earth did this happen? Van Teutem was frustrated, and I conflicted, that talented students went from moral visionaries to money-makers for the corporate elite.

It’s a not-so-secret secret that Cambridge students love to work hard. We proclaim loudly that we were in the library until 2am or bemoan that the UL only opens at 9am (please open earlier), not out of a prayer for mercy or desire for pity, but to show off. It’s impressive to be the hardest worker in the room. Finance, law and consulting are infamous for the suffering that their employees endure and yet we seek them out nonetheless. This ‘grindset mindset’ (or the we do not drop mentality that I like to use) makes us strong, dependable students and workers and the promise of a career where we can work hard is a draw in itself.

“Within a few short years, we’re writing cover letters to JP Morgan describing our newfound passion for investment banking”

Beyond a certain threshold, high salaries cease to be the main draw. Sure, you need money to go to lavish bars with your colleagues, or to go partying during your Christmas trip to Chamonix. But with many students enjoying a strong safety net (thanks mummy and daddy), it’s the prestige that’s the temptation. After three or more years of May Balls, formals and frequenting La Raza, returning to the ‘normal world’ is boring. Van Teutem suggests that Oxbridge offers a form of Universal Basic Income that raises our societal ambitions. With student loans, the Cambridge bursary, travel grants and more, the ‘rich world’ feels more accessible now than at any other stage of life.

This fanciful world continues in the high rises of the City and Canary Wharf; the exclusive corporate world holds an allure akin to that of the Cambridge bubble. Whether part of a boat club, drinking soc or the Pitt Club, many of the most prominent groups in Cambridge are jokingly referred to as cults. To be inside the club is our source of socialising, our standing, our reputation. Such grouping and segregation of society is imprinted in the very fabric of Oxbridge, with the college system lending its hand to small, exclusive societies fostering unique identities. This grouping mentality filters effortlessly into our conversations; the standard “year, college, subject” questions soon get replaced with “job, company, and which tube line you live on?”

In Rena Rawanchaikuls’ investigation into the ‘Cambridge to Consulting Pipeline’, she reveals the temptations of management consulting, with its high profile, diverse work and the opportunity to meet interesting people. Sprinkle in a dash of dissatisfaction-with-your-degree and a splash of exclusive drinks events, and I can easily see the appeal. Some students aim to work at MBB firms for only a couple of years, making use of the up-or-out employment structure to leave for other industries. Many of you may have faith in your abilities to control your post-grad job future, but all the ‘doors’ you believe you’re keeping open, risk permanent closure due to lifestyle inflation. This ‘Optionality Trap’ (as Van Teutem puts it) comes from the fear of picking the wrong career. We choose consulting on the promise of being able to leave, but the high salary lifestyle we acquire along the way prevents us from ever being free of the corporate ecosystem.

“I find it so disheartening to watch our talent channel into the institutions that undermine the values we once held”

How have these firms garnered this proud reputation? Given the well-known involvement many firms in global and economic crises – just think of the bank bailouts during the 2008 financial crisis – their reputation should be in tatters. And yet, at every careers fair, drinks event or meet and greet, corporate loyalty and respect emerges long before a job contract is signed. These corporations benefit from the reputational boost that comes with projecting a lavish lifestyle. It’s now a daily occurrence that [insert name] from [insert morally ambiguous company] contacts me through the University’s career network system, Handshake, inviting me to yet another ‘exclusive’ event. These companies compete on prestige and promise and I find it disheartening to watch our talent channel into the institutions that undermine the values we once held.

Our UCAS personal statements were full of moral ambition, and I think it’s clear to say that the UK secondary education system works well at producing moral visionaries, but keeping us that way is the hard thing. Confused job hunters may stumble across schemes like 80,000 hours or Effective Altruism which are about making a difference with your job, working for the collective good – even at the expense of your salary and lifestyle. Good for you if you are moral enough to follow this path, but I am not convinced this option is selfish enough for the general population to provide a systematic alternative to the current job hunting world.

This is what I find convincing about Van Teutem’s ideas. They speak of practical changes – encouraging prestige and growth in jobs with outcomes that benefit society, instead of relying on individuals’ moral voices in their heads. Prestige is not the problem, the issue is simply that it is confined to meaningless jobs.

What options are left for us confused students? Startups could be the way to go. Van Teutem points to YCombinator in the US which uses networking and a strong desire for personal growth to help grow a startup. The Civil Service Fast Stream shows that the link between prestige and a high salary (which most do-good firms can’t afford to offer) can be broken, attracting tens of thousands of applicants each year. I think righteous companies should learn from these examples, and should be just as present at our careers fairs and society dinners. If they were also to offer high quality internships, then students would be able to see early on that there are interesting and rewarding jobs beyond those in just finance, corporate law and management consulting.

Is this all so wrong though? Doesn’t the market allocate labour resources to where we can produce the ‘most’ output? But what output should be produced? To briefly risk this article becoming a sermon, I ask that you give a moment’s thought to what you could do for the world – where would your talents be most appreciated? Van Teutem ended our interview with the advice: ‘Don’t let anything mute your moral voice’ – and though it’s certainly a challenge, I’m inclined to agree.