Do you have Serono?

About twenty years ago, I participated with my best friend in the Investissima trade fair which was held every year in the Palais de Beaulieu in Lausanne. This French-speaking investment event did not survive the bear markets of the 2000s. At the time, everyone was talking about it and it was always a great moment, in every sense of the word. The institutional tie-wearers threw themselves on the small investors with the secret hope of fleecing them to the bone. It must be said that they were very good at this little game and that the flock opposite had an unfortunate tendency to behave like such, namely real sheep, not to say pigeons. With my friend we delighted in this improbable sociological interlude. We were still in our twenties, the average age around us was two to three times higher. The atmosphere was younger than the AGM of Nestle, but still quite ripe, especially if we ignored the young wolves who were there to sell their junk.

My buddy and I came here to move around. It was our outing to the capital. We took advantage of it to party and check out the girls. From that point of view, Investissima was not worth the car show. There was Dominique Schibli with his leather boots and here and there some young dynamic bank assistants in heels and suits, but apart from that, it was pretty miserable. So, before going out to have a drink in town, we would have a little talk each time, just to have a clear conscience.

Every year, there was a theme that mobilized investors more. This time, biotechs were in the spotlight. Everyone had eyes only for them. The human genome was offered to us and all diseases were going to be conquered. Man had become immortal or almost. The organizers had sensed the blow coming, they had reserved the largest room for their speaker of the day, a fund manager from I don't know which financial institution, who certainly went bankrupt in 2008. The guy had kept us in suspense for over an hour explaining the interest of investing in biotechs. It was like listening to a prophet. The sheep stood there speechless in front of him, mouths open. They drank in the words of the Messiah. They drooled over him. In truth, I don't think anyone in the room understood a single one of his words. At the end came the traditional "Do you have any questions?" Silence in the assembly, a fly flying. Then suddenly an old man raises his hand at the very back. A microphone is brought to him and that's when he says out of the blue: "Do you have Serono?"

I don't even remember what the guy answered him. It doesn't matter. The old man got away as soon as he got the answer. No one in the room lifted a finger, but my friend and I were flabbergasted. The analyst had been spouting his gibberish for ages, he had studied his subject well, relying on extensive research and his own academic training, which was obviously quite sophisticated. But his audience wasn't there for that. The hundred or so birds clucking in the room were just waiting to know which stocks they had to buy. In particular, Serono. For those who didn't know, Serono was the Bertarelli family company, listed on the SMI, which was bought out a few years later by Merck. In this case, if the old man at the back of the room had any, he was rubbing his hands.

At the time, my friend and I thought this question was ridiculous. It even became a cult line between us. When you think about it, that's exactly how the stock market works. Institutional investors set the tone and small investors follow, always a step behind.