The Livable Blog

In case you didn't get invited, Macquarie Bank - AKA the Millionaires Factory (the bank that is trying to to arrange financing for the Port Mann / Highway 1 expansion) recently blew over half a million dollars on their staff Christmas party. The Australian 'masters of the universe' seemed to want to show that they were well insulated from the US sub-prime crisis, and had no need to tighten their belts.

Well, they followed up on the party with about 1000 pink slips - 'Merry Christmas, hope you liked the caviar at the staff party - now get out and don't come back.'

"They locked the doors down on our level, said we had a meeting. Then they just went around, one by one: 'Here's your letter, goodbye,"' a senior infrastructure analyst, now redundant, said. "This is no earth tremor, it's an earthquake. It's f---ed. It just came out of nowhere."

Other senior members of staff explained how they were sacked in the morning, then told to go through and sack their staff that afternoon.

Well good to see that they have their priorities straight and know how to manage money carefully. This should really inspire confidence among potential investors! ;) The good thing is that there will be a bunch of now unemployed corporate lawyers who wrote Macquarie's P3 contracts and will be eager to work figuring out how to tear them up.

Masters lose their universe by letter
Erik Jensen
December 5, 2008

YESTERDAY after lunch the doors at Macquarie Bank closed for a meeting that never came. Instead there were letters. Redundancies unexpected in scope or timing.

Workers at the so-called Millionaires Factory, which last week spent $500,000 on a Christmas party, spent last night in the bars of the central business district - up George Street, on Australia Square, into the Ivy.

They had gone to work the masters of the universe and left it unemployed.

"They locked the doors down on our level, said we had a meeting. Then they just went around, one by one: 'Here's your letter, goodbye,"' a senior infrastructure analyst, now redundant, said. "This is no earth tremor, it's an earthquake. It's f---ed. It just came out of nowhere."

Other senior members of staff explained how they were sacked in the morning, then told to go through and sack their staff that afternoon. Some divisions said they lost 80; others put their figure at 100. In pubs last night, a picture emerged of a workforce who had watched the financial crisis but not their own back.

"They're meant to be the Millionaires Factory," a former manager said. . "I've sold my life there for 15 years. Tomorrow I've got no money, no Christmas presents. They had me working 80-hours-a-week and I've got nothing now."

A week ago it was a different party. Cockatoo Island was hired out. So were the Presets and four boats. There were red-berry cocktails and two bars, waitresses serving shots from water pistols.

Last night ties were loosened in a bar on Australia Square. Hugs were shared, earlier than normal. The masculinity of financial services spilled out over schooners of Asahi.

"We went to the Christmas party, had a good night, and then ditched us today," an assistant account manager from financial services said across his beer.

Upstairs, the last lights hung on in Macquarie Bank's building. At 9 o'clock, the heads of former colleagues were still bobbing at desks.

"Macquarie Bank is a fantastic company that treats its staff with the utmost respect," a former employee said into his gin and tonic. "That's not sarcasm."
http://business.smh.com.au/business/masters-lose-their-universe-by-letter-20081204-6rqb.html