The following is a snippet from my book Philosophy for Business Leaders.

I never really wanted to study philosophy. In fact, the idea never crossed my mind. At college, after dabbling with a variety of courses that included calculus, organic chemistry, biology, economics, and finance, I decided I wanted to understand what a stock was and the underpinnings of the financial world.

I was mesmerized by all the numbers displayed on big screens, sometimes with weird candle-like figures, squeezed between lines on either side and numbers flaring in red and green every other second.

It looked so fascinating to me that I decided I wanted to be part of that world. At the time, I still had no idea what any of that meant, except that it had to do with finance and the financial markets.

So I decided to major in Business Administration, with a particular focus on banking and finance. This was in the fall of 2007-2008. During that academic year, I enthusiastically signed up for accounting and managerial finance courses, in addition to management, marketing, microeconomics, and macroeconomics, among others. To say that I loved finance would be an understatement.

I was learning new things, gaining insight into how the market forces worked, what a GDP was, product cycles, and marketing techniques. I learned how to read balance sheets and statements of cash flows, conducted cash flow statement analysis with all the weird ratios, explored the relationship between risk and rate of returns, and covered a great deal of other material that was new, fresh, and completely interesting.

The Crisis That Changed Everything

Then one day the world woke up to some disconcerting news. Lehman Brothers declared it was bankrupt, and soon thereafter the repercussions were so vast that the entire world was impacted. It was a global financial crisis.

I had just started learning about financial markets, financial derivatives, security analysis, and portfolio management. I was brimming with questions about the recent developments. Every professor had their unique theory. Reading the news and articles about the unfolding events made things all the more confusing to me. Instead of having answers, I found myself entangled in more questions.

Up until the market collapse, almost everyone exuded confidence in their knowledge and had a highly optimistic outlook on the economy. Then, like a house of cards, it all crumbled. Everything seemed so intricately interconnected and complex that providing a straightforward and simple explanation of the events appeared nearly impossible.

Of course, I was a novice with no prior experience. So I couldn’t truly grasp all the information I was absorbing. But it struck me that the sense of certainty and the unwavering confidence financial analysts and economists displayed was abruptly shaken up by a crisis and adversity that only a handful had anticipated.

As banks and financial institutions filed for bankruptcy like falling dominoes, their leadership continued to pile up millions in bonuses. People were losing their jobs, unemployment rates were soaring across the board, many were being evicted from their homes, and the world was shaken by a crisis it wouldn’t fully recover from until many years later.

And here I was, pondering numerous questions about finance and how the world operated. I had more queries about dealing with adversity and uncertainty and the potential ethical implications of decisions that affected many people, with seemingly few willing to assume responsibility for their actions.

The Search for Answers

I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it all or where to start in search of answers. However, what I did know was that the finance and economics departments weren’t providing a wholly satisfying exploration of these matters.

That was when I considered that perhaps philosophy could be a worthwhile starting point. I had previously taken introductory philosophy and existentialism in literature courses in the Fall of 2007 and Spring of 2008, and I found the subject rather captivating.

Something about philosophy resonated with me. In addition to having a semi-existential crisis, I observed that even though I didn’t receive definitive answers to the topics under scrutiny, I was gaining valuable insights into approaching complex issues, posing questions, examining them from various angles, and incorporating historical context into the discussions.

I decided to add a minor in philosophy to my major in banking and finance. Semester in and semester out, I signed up for one or more philosophy courses that dealt with ethics, the theory of knowledge, metaphysics, and modern philosophy, in an attempt to learn a thing or two, gain more insight into philosophical methods of inquiry, and read about the history of philosophy. In the back of my mind, I was hoping to acquire the skills needed to navigate the business world more effectively.

Bridging Two Worlds

Philosophy opened up a whole new realm to me. What particularly caught my attention was that we were studying individuals who laid the groundwork for fields such as economics, anthropology, and psychology. From David Hume, Adam Smith, John Stuart Mill, Keynes, and Marx, I was slowly learning about the historical and theoretical foundations of the development of economic theory and finance.

However, none of these aspects were covered in my business courses. All we focused on were formulas and calculations. It all appeared quite direct and practical. Facing a financial challenge? No problem, we’ve got you covered with a formula! Looking to enhance your cash flows? No problem, here’s the formula!

Here I was, with one foot in philosophy and the other in business, finance, and economics, and although they appeared complementary to me, a significant gap existed. If I had exclusively pursued philosophy, I would have been missing the technical training in business. Conversely, if I had solely focused on business, I would have lacked the historical depth and critical perspective philosophy provided.

After graduating, I pursued an MA and a PhD in philosophy in Salamanca, Spain, with the intention of returning to teach at my alma mater in Beirut. I believed I could bridge the gap between disciplines and introduce students to the profound world of philosophy. However, I soon received a reality check, and after seven years as a professor, I found myself moving away from academia, with the goal of bringing philosophy to the marketplace. But more on this later.

The above is a snippet of Philosophy of Business leaders. Get your copy here.