Money Matters

In the days and weeks following September 11, companies located around the corner -- and around the globe -- from ground zero urged employees to utilize corporate counseling services, to purge their fears and worries with on-call psychologists before attempting business as usual. Thousands of people used the opportunity to vent their anger and anxiety about flying, big cities, and terrorists. They also talked about money.

Not surprisingly, money has become a hot-button topic for many crisis counselors during the past few months. As news of layoffs, company closures, and stock-market tumbles followed on the heels of terrorist reports, people began clutching their pocketbooks with quivering hands -- and looking for advice wherever possible.

"People felt they were drowning in a lake filled with 2 feet of water," says Daniel Kegan, attorney and organizational psychologist at Chicago's Kegan & Kegan Ltd. "When you receive reams and reams of information all at once, you're not going to function very well. You're going to stress out -- about terrorism, bankruptcy, whatever."

And when employees stress about money, work suffers. Amy Faunce, an account executive at Concern: EAP, an employee-assistance program (or EAP) based in Mountain View, California, says that economic anxiety disrupts the workplace because distressed employees are more likely to spend on-the-clock time sorting out credit-card debt, researching investment opportunities, and arguing with significant others. Those distractions, she says, threaten an employee's productivity and an employer's bottom line.

That is precisely why Concern recently signed on with Financial Finesse Inc., a San Francisco startup that educates employees about 0% financing, Roth IRAs, hedge funds, and countless other intimidating, mystifying money matters. An independent content company without ties to any banks or investment houses, Financial Finesse touts its service as unbiased and unmotivated by commissions, referral fees, or advertising revenue. Its mission is simple and long overdue: to teach generations of uninformed, unprepared Americans about their money -- or lack thereof.

The Money Changer

Liz Davidson didn't set out to spark a gender uprising. It's just turned out that way.

While attending the Anderson School of Management at UCLA, the ambitious investment banker hatched the idea for a hedge fund for high-net-worth investors. She recruited a broker friend from New York to help establish a hypothetical portfolio, and before she knew it, Davidson was managing the sales, marketing, and strategy of her own fund, Davidson Andrade LLC. All before her 26th birthday.

"In the process of presenting at conferences, I noticed that I was one of very few women actively involved in the investing community," says Davidson. "Everyone who ever called us, heard of us, or wanted to invest with us was a man. It started to eat at me. Why weren't women getting financial information that mattered? Why weren't they as passionate about investing as I was? What was going on?"

Frightening statistics began to stack up: The U.S. divorce rate hovers around 50%. Most divorced mothers win custody of their children. Women make 76 cents for every dollar earned by men in the same job, and they live seven years longer. In short, women must stretch less money across a longer retirement than men. "We don't talk enough about how the women of the baby-boomer generation are neglecting to save enough for retirement," Davidson says. "Amid all these advances in medical care, no one is asking, 'How are you going to support yourself through 25 years of retirement?' "

Davidson, now 30, started conducting free weekend seminars, which she called Financial Finesse, for women who wanted to learn about stock portfolios, IRAs, and smart investments. She packed the house each time. Soon, attendees began sending their sisters, roommates, and mothers to the forums. As the seminars grew in popularity, Davidson says she encountered a conflict of interest that challenged her own capitalistic tendencies. "How could I spend all this time educating women about their money and then say, 'But the best alternative is my hedge fund. Don't invest your money anywhere else'? I couldn't cross that line and maintain my credibility as a teacher," she says.

Then one morning in early 1999, Davidson's partner called her from the hedge fund's New York office. She answered the phone "Financial Finesse, this is Liz." "That was really the beginning of the end," she says. "It was like calling your boyfriend the wrong name. We both realized that my head and heart were no longer with Davidson Andrade LLC."