Abhishek Gunasekar: “The discipline of finance, when taught well, forces one to confront uncomfortable questions. What risks are acceptable? Who bears them? What obligations accompany capital allocation?”
“The great aim and end of all learning is service to mankind.” — Benjamin Franklin
Before arriving at Harvard Business School, I thought I understood rigor. I came in with years of technical training and professional experience, accustomed to precision, optimization, and correctness. Decisions, in my prior world, were judged largely by outcomes and efficiency. What I did not yet understand was Franklin’s distinction between learning as accumulation and learning as preparation for service.
The early weeks at HBS disabused me of that simplicity.
The case method does not reward certainty. It rewards judgment.
From the first cold call, it became clear that HBS was not asking for the “right” answer. It was asking how one reasons, why one chooses, and who one becomes in the process. Sitting in the classroom, surrounded by peers who approached the same facts through radically different lenses, I realized that leadership is not about brilliance in isolation. It is about discernment under uncertainty.
Over time, I began to see Harvard in a new way. To me, Harvard is a snapshot of civilization itself. A place where ideas, values, histories, and ambitions collide. Within that broader ecosystem, HBS feels like a snapshot of the economy. Capital, labor, incentives, risk, reward, ethics, and power all compressed into cases and conversations. And at the most granular level, the section is a snapshot of a company. Diverse individuals, finite resources, competing priorities, and shared outcomes. How we show up, collaborate, and decide together determines whether the system thrives.
Nowhere was this clearer than in FIN1.
Finance had always been a quiet undercurrent in my life. As a child, I was fascinated by markets and incentives, but life took me down a more technical path. FIN1 reawakened that early curiosity, not through formulas alone, but through philosophy. At its core, finance is the study of risk and return, but at HBS, it becomes something more human: the study of tradeoffs, responsibility, and consequence.
Risk, I learned, is not merely volatility. It is uncertainty borne by people. Return is not just numerical upside; it is value created and distributed over time. The discipline of finance, when taught well, forces one to confront uncomfortable questions. What risks are acceptable? Who bears them? What obligations accompany capital allocation? FIN1 did not simply teach me how to price assets. It taught me how to think about stewardship.
The case method amplified this transformation. Each case placed us in the seat of responsibility, often with incomplete information and competing interests. Analysis mattered, but analysis alone was insufficient. At some point, one had to decide. That moment, when data gives way to judgment, became the most intellectually honest part of my education.
I began to see that wisdom in finance lies at the intersection of courage and humility. Courage to act without certainty, and humility to recognize the limits of one’s knowledge. The best contributions in class were rarely the loudest or most confident. They were thoughtful, curious, and grounded in respect for opposing views. Inquiry, not assertion, became the most powerful tool in the room.
Equally transformative was the environment in which this learning occurred.
My section has been one of the great gifts of my time at HBS. In a setting that mirrors a real organization, I saw firsthand how culture compounds. Section mates invest real time in one another, whether it is helping prepare for a cold call, offering perspective after a disappointing recruiting outcome, or simply showing up when someone needs support. That behavior is not mandated. It is chosen. And like in any company, those choices define the character of the institution.
That culture changes how you show up every day. It encourages generosity over posturing, learning over performance. I watched classmates lift each other up, share hard-won insights, and celebrate one another’s milestones with genuine joy. In doing so, they reminded me that leadership is relational before it is positional.
This sense of community also reframed my understanding of ambition. Prior to HBS, ambition often meant endurance and self-reliance. Here, I learned that ambition paired with empathy scales further. Strength does not require hardness; it can coexist with warmth. Approachability, I discovered, is not a liability for leaders. It is a multiplier.
Throughout the semester, I found myself reflecting on what it means to pursue excellence without losing humanity. The faculty modeled this balance with remarkable consistency. They demonstrated that rigor and kindness are not opposites, that preparation enables joy, and that learning does not end with mastery of content but continues as a lifelong obligation.
By the end of the term, something fundamental had shifted. Finance was no longer merely a career interest. It became a vehicle for pursuing wisdom. The world of risk and return isultimately a moral landscape, shaped by the decisions of individuals entrusted with capital and influence. To operate in that world responsibly requires more than technical skill. It requires judgment, integrity, and a commitment to serve something larger than oneself.
HBS did not give me answers. It gave me better questions.
As I move forward, I carry with me a renewed passion for finance, grounded not in prestige or outcomes, but in purpose. I am deeply grateful for the case method that stretched my thinking, for FIN1 that rekindled a lifelong curiosity, and for a section that reminded me that success is richer when shared.
Education, I have learned, is not about accumulation. It is about transformation. And at HBS, that transformation happens one case, one conversation, and one act of collective support at a time.
Abhi Gunasekar is currently an MS/MBA student at Harvard Business School.
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