By Orlando Ye
Have you heard of the Bermuda Triangle? It is an area of ocean in the North Atlantic bracketed by Bermuda, Puerto Rico, and Florida, where ships and planes have been known to disappear without a trace. This has spawned explanations, ranging from the lost city of Atlantis to interdimensional gateways.
At LSE, we have a Bermuda Triangle of Talent. The term, first coined by Simon Van Teutem, refers to the trifecta of commercial law, high finance, and management consulting, where the best and brightest young people flock towards in lieu of tepid and unimportant pursuits like curing cancer or tackling inequality.
Does LSE attract people who want to go into these roles, or does it push people towards these careers?
I spoke to Max*, a second-year PPE student, and Emma*, a second-year Law student, to understand what factors push students towards these careers.
Bermuda Triangle Shmermuda Shmiangle
Max and Emma both agreed that they chose LSE because it aligned with their career aspirations. Emma said she wanted to pursue law “around Year 9 or Year 10”. Max said he chose LSE because he enjoyed the opportunity to study a very theoretically-grounded degree whilst being in an “environment where people are very career-focused”.
A student from Accounting and Finance also agreed that they applied to LSE because they had a clear idea they wanted to pursue investment banking. So, problem solved! LSE is a symptom, not a cause, and we all rest easy at night. Well … not so simple. Rerum Cognoscere Causas — we must be annoying social scientists and understand why people pursue these careers.
Prestige
The desire for a high-paying career seems fairly straightforward. However, the pursuit of prestige both interviewees referenced subtly underpinned the choices they and their peers have made.
Max describes how many students believe they need a job “worthy” of the university they attend, whilst Emma adds that “success looks like [working] […] in a big firm, [earning] big lawyer money, [working] on M&A deals […] with the important people […] that is what I think LSE builds success to be.”
LSE attracts incredibly ambitious people from all over the world. Thus, there is an expectation that if you went to a prestigious university, the natural next step is a prestigious career.
Max’s explanation exemplifies this inherent need for status: “There’s a perception that if you graduate from LSE but end up in a job that people from less prestigious universities also do, it feels like a step down.”
He points out that “international students often arrive with a clearer goal”, and this is generally to use university as a springboard into a respected career because “the tuition fee is so high you’re either very wealthy or you’re here specifically to get a good job”.
And what makes a path prestigious enough to be a ‘good job’? Emma mentions criminal law as a career that people respect but wouldn’t pursue themselves because “it’s very difficult work and emotionally draining. But the pay is quite low.” So, although prestige is important, its foundation is the idea of the kind of lifestyle one’s job can afford.
Perhaps conflictingly, working in a prestigious role at a selective firm known for being high-achieving acts as a form of social capital. It captures the ambition of LSE’s talented cohort, providing an avenue to prove to oneself they are on the winning side. Since a prestigious career bolsters one’s social capital, the choice to pursue one is not a moral, but an economic decision. Cold, hard utility maximisation.
Pressure
With every passing year, recruiting becomes more competitive.
Max notes that application cycles are incredibly structured: “Applications open at certain times, internships happen on a strict schedule, and you feel like you need to prepare constantly.” This creates an underlying current of anxiety that one is always struggling to keep up and that these few university years are the only chance a bright, ambitious student has to make it.
But because “you hear about the same big firms repeatedly”, because all your peers are chasing these roles, because these jobs are perceived as possibly your one and only chance for what some might deem a ‘good life’, the pressure to not miss out is thermonuclear.
Emma rounds off by stating, “I sometimes worry [that] what if in ten years I regret not pursuing those opportunities?”
Another pressure is the need for ‘options’. Max notes that “working at a big, well-known firm right after graduation signals your value in the labour market”. This is a common selling point of high-pressure careers, where the ‘exit opportunities’ are unparalleled.
For students who are not entirely sure of what they want to pursue, these careers present themselves as an attractive package to allow one to do what they actually want to later on.
Prolonging
The most pragmatic reason cited is that for many students, pursuing a Bermuda Triangle career is not an option, but rather a necessity. The 2024/25 LSE cohort was 64% international compared to a nationwide average of just 23%. With increasingly strict visa requirements, these careers are often the only ones that meet the higher pay threshold and have employers who are allowed to sponsor visas. “Only large firms with an international presence can sponsor visas,” Emma notes. Those who wish to remain in the UK face astronomical stakes and are forced to chase the money or be chased away.
Yes, LSE certainly attracts people who want to pursue corporate careers. But, in reality, this is exacerbated by the environment of prestige, pressure, and prolonging, which pushes people towards believing these careers are the only ones available to them.
* Names have been changed to preserve anonymity.
