Hello, welcome again to the middle of your week, and thank you to the various cats who’ve taken the last couple of weeks where I’ve either been gadding or very close to death with what I’m pretty sure was dengue fever or possibly hantavirus but may actually have been a nasty cold. You have to take this stuff seriously, especially at my age.  

We all ready for autumn? I like autumn. It’s a touch chilly as I’m writing this; it was dark early and now the shadows are dancing as the wax drips down the (branded) lang cat candle I am huddling next to for both warmth and light as I scratch my missives onto empty spaces on disused big-consultancy printed Powerpoint slides which aim to convince the hapless that basic economics doesn’t work anymore. Later I’ll burn them and briefly caper like a grinning idiot as they burst into flame before raging, raging against the dying of the light. 

I am very tired. 

I had a new experience earlier today (stop sniggering at the back); for the first time ever I went to do a talk in a school, to a Higher Business studies class. For the uninitiated, Highers are a kind of exam in Scotland; I don’t mean the kids were studying how to do a higher form of business. Although anything’s possible. I saw some very interesting wall diagrams on optimising stock levels. 

Anyway, the school I went to was in Cumbernauld, which is sort of between Edinburgh and Glasgow but up a bit, and I was made very welcome and got given a glass of water, and the 20 or so kids sat politely while I did my bit and hardly ever checked their phones as I told them about financial planning as a career. I was doing this because this particular class is coming along to HomeGame 5: New Blood in a few weeks, and I wanted to put them off. Ho, ho. No, it seemed only right to try and prep them for what they’re walking into.  

I’d love to say that there was some easy-to-package, Linkedinable moment from my visit. Actually, that’s not true. I’d hate it if there were because then someone would probably make me put it on there and then I’d have to stab myself in the eye with an HB pencil (never try to do that with a softer lead pencil, it’s just frustrating). As it is my eyes are just fine (well, deteriorating rapidly).  

What was clear was that these bright, high-attaining kids are absolutely wide open to hearing about anything that will help them make their way in the world. After talking about what would happen at HomeGame, we got into all sorts of stuff including how to apply for jobs so recruiters take notice of you, how to approach local businesses to look for internships, work experience and maybe even paid employment, the perils of relying on AI, and the futility of headbutting auto-apply on job sites or Linkedin and hoping for the best.  

Turns out no-one’s really talked to them about that sort of thing before; they are pretty awesome at diagrams on stock level optimisation though. They were definitely interested in hearing what people who hire people like them are looking for; and it struck me that as they start to look outside education into the scary world of work, everything they read is online and moves towards systemisation rather than actually personalising what you do in order to make better human contact. No wonder auto-apply looks good; it’s not just easy, it removes the need to get into awkward human-to-human stuff. The problem with that, as every planner knows, is that that’s where the value is. And it’s where the jobs are, too. 

I don’t really know what my point is this week; those of you currently penning smart notes to me saying “no change there lol” may take it as read I already thought of the gag. Maybe it’s that if we do want this next generation to get into the business we call show, it’s not enough to just show how it’s a great place to make your career. We might have to take these younglings by the hand and help them make the first step.  

For now, sorry to any planners in North Lanarkshire; you might be getting some direct approaches from some bright young folk soon. Ask them about stock level optimisation, you’ll be there all day. 

See you next week.

Mark