Private Equity’s Recruiting Madness, Through the Eyes of Someone Who Lived It | Invesloan.com

The private equity industry’s chaotic junior hiring process — infamous for midnight interviews and exploding offers — has long captivated Wall Street.

This year, it’s under fresh scrutiny after JPMorgan Chase warned incoming investment bankers they’d be fired for skipping job training to interview with buyout firms for roles that wouldn’t start until 2027. Days later, Apollo Global Management and General Atlantic said they would not interview incoming bankers for 2027 roles this year — casting doubt on the future of the practice known as “on-cycle” recruiting.

In an effort to shine a light on the practice, Business Insider spoke to a private equity professional about his experience recruiting for a private equity job when he was a junior investment banker. He said the industry’s so-called “on-cycle recruiting” process was the most stressful 12 hours of his life, and described being tricked into an interview with a firm, hiding in the bathroom to text with a rival firm, and more.

He also said he doesn’t think the practice should go away entirely.

BI granted this buyout professional anonymity to speak freely, but verified his identity. Here is his story in his own words, edited for length and clarity.

I was out of town when on-cycle recruiting showed signs of kicking off back when I was a junior banker a few years ago. I flew right back to New York that day and was invited to a dinner with a representative from a top-10 firm that I’d been talking to and wanted to interview for.

He invited me to meet at a bar for some wine.

Shortly after we’d ordered our second glass, I went to the bathroom and I looked down at my phone. I had messages from not just people at the PE firm that had invited me to dinner, but others. On-cycle had kicked off.

I went back to the table and told the person I was dining with that interviews had kicked off and he basically said to me, “Don’t worry” — that his firm had a place for me. Suddenly, it all made sense. He’d picked a bar very close to their office, and he told me we should walk right over there now. We were there in under 10 minutes.

Throughout the interview, it became clear to me how artificial and concocted the drinks were. I’d gone from having wine to the real reason they wanted to get to know me: so I could sit in their office doing an LBO model with a dividend recap functionality and prove my worth. I now know that if a firm thinks you’re being pursued by other firms, they will quite literally send someone to lock you down at dinner or drinks until the process kicks off, so you’re caught flat-footed and have to interview with them.

The interview went till 2:30 a.m. I got the offer but didn’t accept it right away. During the interview, another firm was texting me, saying, “Hey, come now. We’re interested in you, come now.”

I told the second firm I was socially pressured by recruiters at the first firm, but said I would break away as soon as I could.

Interviewing till 2:30 a.m.

So at 2:30, I finally left the first firm’s offices with an offer in hand. I had to finesse my way into being able to leave the office without signing it, and I immediately called the headhunters from the second firm. I’m like, “I’ve just freed up. Can I come?” And they’re like: “Oh yeah, we’ll have you at 7 a.m.” So basically, I needed to be at their office four and a half hours later, and it’s already the middle of the night, and I’ve had no sleep, but I wanted to see if I could get that second offer. I was just shaking.

One thing that stopped me from accepting that first offer right away was that it meant I’d have to leave New York City — and my girlfriend at the time was freaking out about that. “You’re leaving me,” she said. We had this big cry fest until 4:30 a.m. Then I went to bed for an hour and a half, woke up at 6, got into my suit, got to the second firm’s offices by 7 a.m., and started the interview.

It was going well. I was getting through the different interview rounds. Meanwhile, the first firm starts hitting me up, pressuring me, saying, “Hey, anything you need to talk about? Anything you need to consider about the offer?” So they must have known. I had like an e-sign offer, and I hadn’t signed it. They were concerned.

I texted back. I said I just needed some time to talk to my family and my mentors, and I had to call my mom. I said she was only available in the afternoon, and I wanted to wait until she could double-check everything — I was basically making up whatever I could while sitting in the office of the second firm, going through that interview. So I said, “Can I call my mom later and get back to you?” The first firm was quick to respond — no. They weren’t going to wait that long. They wrote me to call them right away.

The worst possible timing

This was very inconvenient because I’d just finished up one round of interviews at the second firm’s offices and was waiting for the next interviewer to come into the room to talk to me. I darted to the bathroom so I could hide in there and call the first firm. They didn’t sound happy. The guy on the other end asked me: “What’s taking you so long? We’re gonna give the offer away if you don’t sign it right now. We’ll delete the electronic offer.”

This was about the worst place to receive this ultimatum — in a bathroom. Sinks were running. Toilets were flushing. There were strange noises as other people came in to do their “business.” Here I am saying, “Let me call my mom, I’m thinking it over,” and in the background there is a symphony of “whoosh,” “whoosh,” “whoosh,” as the toilets flush. I apologized for the background noise, but the guy on the other end didn’t care.

He basically told me, “If you don’t accept this offer now, we’re going to give it away.”

So I took it. I said yes — that I’d take it. (Still hadn’t signed yet, though.)

I walked out of the bathroom right as the second interviewer was coming in to meet me. I remember thinking: “What the hell do I do?”

As calmly as I could, I went over and told one of the external recruiters milling around the office that I had another offer being actively exploded on me and I had to take it. I said I really appreciated their time, and I’m sure they could understand that I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

I left that office and the guy from the first firm was still blowing up my phone: “We’re standing by for you to sign this.” He was like: “There are three of us, looking at a computer right now, refreshing.” And I’m just like: “Holy shit.”

Scrambling to sign

I was on my phone at this point, trying to pull up the offer letter so I could sign. My data was really slow. Ugh — what a mess. I sent it back, and I’m like, “Ok, great, it’s signed!” And they texted me back: “It’s blank.”

At this point, I was freaking out. I was thinking they were imagining that I was trying to scheme another hour or two out of them while I went and interviewed somewhere else. I apologized as profusely as I could, and the second I got back to my apartment, I unlocked the door, made a beeline to my computer, and successfully signed. A text came in a few moments later. They congratulated me on accepting the job. I was thrilled. I was crying. The on-cycle pressure was over — or so I thought.

That’s where I thought the story ended. Then my phone rang again. It was the second firm — the one I’d just run out of.

“Come back, come back, come back,” they told me, since I’d been gone about 10 or 15 minutes at this point. “Sorry,” I said. “I just signed another offer.”

This was, without a doubt, one of the most stressful, roughly 12-hour periods of my life and career. Here’s the ironic part: Now, I help with PE recruiting at my current firm. When on-cycle kicks off for 2027 associate jobs, I don’t expect it to be much different from what I went through.

As crazy as this whole process is, I see it as fair in some respects. Those who are keen on recruiting for top private equity firms will have prepared weeks, if not months, ahead of time, and this enthusiasm shines through in the process.

I also recognize that there’s a high degree of gamesmanship, and one subtly wrong move — say, choosing a firm where you’re not top considered a top pick — can derail the whole process.

I wouldn’t champion the complete demise of on-cycle — again, sniffing out enthusiasts is helpful — but it has been pushed far too early. Because of the limited number of open roles, I’ve watched great candidates come up just short and get lost in the shuffle. I’d also note that this does prevent “late bloomers” from placing well, and many have to do a third year of banking.

Have a tip? Contact this reporter via email at ralexander@businessinsider.com or SMS/Signal at 561-247-5758. Use a personal email address and a nonwork device; here’s our guide to sharing information securely.