So let me get this straight. Goldman Sachs just posted its highest third-quarter revenues ever. The firm is on track for its best year in history in its core divisions. And what’s the big news from CEO David Solomon? They’re firing people. Again.
JPMorgan, not to be outdone, is also riding a wave of soaring profits, with CFO Jeremy Barnum admitting that conditions are “as good as you can hope for.” Their response? A hiring freeze so tight you couldn’t squeeze a summer intern through it with a crowbar.
We’re being sold a story here, a neat little package wrapped in shiny, futuristic paper. The label on the box reads “AI-Powered Efficiency.” But if you tear it open, you find the same old rotten gift Wall Street has been giving the working class for decades: raw, unadulterated greed. Give me a break.
Goldman is calling its new plan "OneGS 3.0," which sounds less like a banking strategy and more like a failed operating system from the early 2000s. In a memo dripping with the kind of corporate jargon designed to numb your brain, Solomon and John Waldron talk about a new "AI-powered 'operating system'" that will automate jobs in sales, client onboarding, and lending. They’re looking at "touchpoints" and "back to front workstreams."
Let me translate that for you: "We found a new, high-tech excuse to fire a bunch of expensive mid-level employees before bonus season."
This is a bad idea. No, 'bad' doesn't cover it—this is a five-alarm dumpster fire of corporate doublespeak. They expect us to believe that after years of hiring these very people, an AI suddenly appeared that can do their jobs better? Overnight? It’s insultingly transparent. The Wall Street Journal, bless their hearts, got to the real story: the money saved from these cuts will be "redirected into compensation." Offcourse it will. It always is.
It’s like a pirate captain who, after discovering a massive treasure chest, decides the ship is too heavy. Instead of tossing out a few gold bars, he starts throwing his crew overboard, claiming it’s to improve the ship’s "hydrodynamic efficiency." He then reassures the remaining sailors that their sacrifice will enable a more "agile and forward-looking voyage." Meanwhile, he’s back in his cabin, rolling around in the extra loot.

JPMorgan is playing a slightly more subtle game. Their CFO, Jeremy Barnum, warns against "scrambling around" to find uses for AI, which is the most self-aware thing I’ve heard from a banker all year. But the result is the same. There's a "very strong bias" against hiring, and every single potential new role is being weighed against the possibility that some Large Language Model could do it instead. So, while Goldman is sprinting toward the AI cliff, JPMorgan is cautiously power-walking toward it. The destination is identical.
But does anyone actually believe this is about the tech? Or is AI just the perfect, faceless boogeyman to blame for a classic Wall Street gutting?
Here’s the part that really sends me. The numbers don't just contradict the narrative; they laugh in its face. Goldman isn’t struggling. It’s thriving. It's making money hand over fist. Yet they’re cutting jobs.
And get this—after all these cuts, Goldman still expects to end the year with more employees than it started with. What does that even mean? It suggests a brutal churn-and-burn culture where they hire scores of junior analysts, work them to the bone, and then toss out the slightly more expensive VPs to make room for a new crop. It's a system designed to keep labor costs down and executive bonuses stratospheric. This ain't about building a sustainable future; it's about juicing the next quarterly report.
I’ve seen this playbook a thousand times. Any time a memo from the C-suite starts using vague, optimistic terms about "transformation" or "reimagining our workflow," you know the axe is about to fall. It’s a corporate bloodletting disguised as a TED Talk.
Meanwhile, Jamie Dimon is out there talking about seeing "cockroaches" in the economy and warning about "complex geopolitical conditions." It’s the perfect setup. The banks create a fog of uncertainty and fear, making job cuts seem not just prudent, but necessary for survival. Never mind their own balance sheets are bursting at the seams. It’s a masterclass in narrative control. They’re making record profits in a bubble they themselves are warning about, all while telling their employees that times are tough and sacrifices must be made. The sheer audacity is almost impressive.
So while some mid-level banker is packing up his desk, worrying about his mortgage, the guys at the top are celebrating the success of their new "operating system." It’s a story as old as money itself. The only thing that’s changed is the buzzword they use to justify it.
Let's be brutally honest. This has nothing to do with artificial intelligence and everything to do with protecting the bonus pool for the people who matter. It’s a cynical, calculated move to trim the fat from the middle so the top can get even fatter. The AI story is just a convenient, futuristic-sounding lie to sell to the press and to the poor souls getting pink slips. They're not building the bank of the future. They're just running the oldest, greediest play in the book with a 21st-century skin. And the worst part? They're going to get away with it. They always do.