Signaling the rash of job cuts stalking the financial community is beginning to singe even the most devout workers – you know, the ones who got up early, kept their heads down, never fussed, put their backs uncomplainingly to the grind (not to mention refraining from brown-nosing, water-cooler gossip and all office-politicking, and are beginning now to think the better of it) – this open letter from one fallen Bartleby stands as an ominous warning of what happens to those who come to the City with stars in their eyes.

I'm just another inconsequential statistic on a spreadsheet. I didn't lose my firm billions and I certainly didn't earn millions, but cutting my job will save my ex-firm thousands and will no doubt help the bank's hapless shareholders at least feel that something is being done in an effort to get the share price up.

I don't feel angry and I certainly don't feel guilty. I just feel stupid. Very, very stupid. I'm one of those reliable sorts who gets up early each morning, slogs to work on the train and then spends most of the day undertaking mindless tasks for modest amounts of money. Granted, I earned more than most do, although the long hours, pressure and the stress don't really compensate for the fact that I might earn a few thousand more each year than some of my friends.

I never got a big bonus ( in fact, one year in the early 2000s I got no bonus at all - none of us 'low-lifes' did ). I never engaged in office politics. I never brown-nosed my boss (and I had plenty over the years, mostly high-fliers who parachuted into the department, cocked it up and were promoted out before their chickens came home to roost). I just diligently went about my job, keeping my head down and my nose clean. I was just a cog in the not-so-well oiled machine that turned out to be my firm. I was stupid enough to think, however, that because I worked hard and didn't cost that much, I'd be spared the job axe when it came calling. The opposite, of course, is true. It's the more able and reliable staff, known for their loyalty, who can be sacrificed when the markets turn in the certain knowledge that we will go without making a fuss. And I did.

I won't be taking my firm to a tribunal, and you won't see my name up in lights complaining about how hard done I've been done ( I have no wish to commit career suicide yet, as I need to get another job in the industry). But I will pass on this piece of advice to anyone who cares to listen: 'Nice Guys Do Finish Last!'. In our industry it just doesn't pay to think that you can get by without throwing your weight around, or causing a fuss. The fact is, if you simply go about your job in a quiet and competent fashion, you'll be treated like a carpet, and walked all over!

And don't fool yourself, like I did, into thinking that your firm will have any qualms about repaying all your hard work and loyalty with the boot if it suits - and, to add insult to injury, you'll probably have to work your notice period as you're not important enough to be frog-marched out of the premises by the security police! The fact is, from top to bottom, the financial markets industry is a nasty old business. And you should treat it like one. To survive and thrive (at whatever level), you have to go to work each and every day and ask: 'What's in it for me ?'. It doesn't pay to be a nice guy. It doesn't pay to ignore office politics, and it certainly doesn't pay to imagine that your diligent contribution will be recognised unless you force it down your boss's throat at every opportunity. If you do something well, shout it from the roof-tops! If you see a back, stab it! If you see a chance, take it! No matter who you are...

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