In the canyon of capitalism that is Wall Street there is a certain amount of schadenfreude this week: Jamie Dimon struck out. A paragon of the banking industry whose public persona represents the victory of arrogance over humility, the chief executive and chairman of JPMorgan Chase came a cropper when he admitted presiding over a $US2 billion-plus trading loss. Much of the money was lifted by a trader nicknamed the ''London Whale''. Dimon admitted the beaching was "flawed, complex, poorly reviewed, poorly executed and poorly monitored". He also said ''the buck always stops with me'' … and then sacked the bank's chief investment officer. Nevertheless, he seems to have mesmerised shareholders: they approved a $23 million pay packet. However, 40 per cent of them thought it might be a good idea to strip him of the chairmanship, surely a darkish mark as most who voted to dump him represented institutional investors. Dimon likes to wear a halo with his pinstripes and the media wheels out such soubriquets such as ''America's least-hated banker'' and the ''banker who saved Wall Street'' whenever the great man is mentioned. A Democrat, he has been called President Barack Obama's "favourite banker". Institutional Investor magazine dubbed him the best CEO two years running. His actions during the global financial crisis have been clothed in patriotism: press reports said he "answered the call" from the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation, the agency created by Congress to maintain public confidence in the financial system, to buy one of two banks he scooped up during the financial meltdown. For his part, Dimon said it was ''a patriotic duty to a country in crisis'' to accept $US25 billion in government aid. A glimpse of the management style to come was afforded in the 2009 biography Last Man Standing: The Ascent of Jamie Dimon and JPMorgan Chase. On his second day at Harvard, Dimon was surrounded by geeks competing for the professor's attention. When another student began waving a hand during a Dimon dissertation, he turned around and said, ''Put your … hand down while I'm talking.'' Judy Kent, a fellow student at Harvard and his wife-to-be, got another insight on their first date: she paid because he had no money. On their 15th wedding anniversary, the book reported, Dimon handed her a rolled-up stock certificate, formally giving her one-third of his net worth and saying, ''You deserve this.'' Only 33 per cent? He could afford it. Besides, Forbes magazine considers him the 41st most powerful person in the world.