I did all the work but now others are about to take the glory

Dear TOOFIF,

There’s a scene in the cult British gangster film Layer Cake where Michael Gambon’s character, a seasoned drug lord, delivers a hard truth to Daniel Craig’s up-and-coming criminal protagonist:

This line encapsulates the reality of working in any hierarchical organisation, and investment banking is no exception. It’s got layers, and you need to know your place among them.

You’ve worked hard on this IPO pitch. You’ve dug into the details of the RFP, built a solid relationship with a junior member of the private equity firm, and coordinated everything for the written submission.

Now that it’s time for the big oral pitch, what’s your reward? You’re benched. The MDs are taking over, and you’re not even invited to sit in the room.

It’s frustrating, I get it. You feel sidelined, your contribution diminished, your potential to shine in front of the client snuffed out. But before you start plotting a workplace coup or firing off a strongly worded email to HR, let’s zoom (lower case “z”) out and consider why things work this way.

Investment banks, like many large organisations, operate on a strict hierarchical structure for a reason. This isn’t just about feeding senior egos or keeping juniors in their place. Rather, it’s a crucial mechanism for managing people, processes, and most importantly, risk. The protocol matters.

When it comes to high stakes pitches like the one you’re describing, banks typically send in their most seasoned professionals. Managing directors have — or at least are supposed to have — decades of experience under their belts. They’ve seen markets rise and fall, dealt with countless client personalities, and navigated through myriad deal structures. They’re supposed to know how to read a room, handle curveball questions, and make split-second decisions that could make or break a multi-million dollar fee event.

Moreover, clients expect to see the top brass wheeled out for the ‘beauty pageant’ pitch. They want to know that the bank is taking their business seriously enough to send their A-team. It’s not just about expertise or even about the content of the pitch; it’s about signalling commitment and respect.

But here’s the rub: while this system has its merits, it can indeed feel unfair and demotivating for up-and-coming talent like you. You’ve invested time and energy, and naturally you want to see it through to the end. You want the exposure, the experience and, yes, the credit. And it does feel crazy that the client wants to hear from the senior bankers — even knowing they won’t work much on the deal — as opposed to the junior and mid-level operators, who will be doing all the day-to-day work.

So, what should you do?

First, take a deep breath and remember that this isn’t personal. It’s not a reflection on your abilities or potential. It’s simply how the game is played at this level. The layer cake is just life.

Second, if you haven’t already, consider asking your direct superior — politely — if you can attend the pitch meeting as an observer. Frame it as a learning opportunity. Something like: “I understand that the senior team will be leading the pitch, but given my involvement in the RFP process, would it be possible for me to attend to learn and maybe run through one of the pages?” This shows ambition, initiative and a desire to grow, which are qualities any good manager should appreciate.

However — and this is crucial — if the answer is no, accept it gracefully. Don’t push, don’t sulk, and definitely don’t try to circumvent the decision. Remember, there’s no ‘i’ in ‘team’ (even if there are five in ‘individual brilliance’).

Instead, focus on what you can control. Document your contributions to the RFP process thoroughly. When it comes time for your performance review, you’ll have concrete examples of the value you added. Keep nurturing that relationship with the junior PE firm member — networks are golden in this industry, and today’s junior could be tomorrow’s decision maker. In fact, you can offer to call the junior PE team member after the pitch to solicit feedback and to lobby for the mandate.

Most importantly, use this as motivation to climb the proverbial greasy pole. Every MD was once in your shoes, feeling the same frustrations. The ones who succeeded were those who played the long game; who understood that building a career in investment banking is a marathon, not a sprint.

In the meantime, take pride in your work. The pitch team will be using the materials you prepared, drawing on the insights you’ve gathered. Your fingerprints are all over this deal, even if you’re not in the room for the final presentation.

And here’s a little secret: being in the pitch meeting isn’t always all it’s cracked up to be. It’s high pressure, often with more focus on style than substance. The real work — the work you’ve been doing — happens before and after. Mandates are more often lost than won in the big oral pitch because by then the client usually knows which banks it intends to hire. There can be, ironically, a lot more downside than upside from presenting at the bake-off.

So, my advice? Ask nicely if you can attend, but if the answer is no, don’t dwell on it. Keep your head down, keep producing excellent work, and keep building those relationships. Your time will come.

So, welcome to the layer cake, even if investment banking is nothing like drug dealing (at least, I hope not). The view might not be great from where you’re standing, but the higher you climb, the less excrement you will have to take. Before you know it, you’ll be the one deciding who gets to be in the room.