Not every conversation in the hedge fund world needs to revolve around alpha, Sharpe ratios, or fund flows. In the ongoing Quirky Questions series, HedgeNordic asks industry insiders a mix of offbeat, personal, and unexpected questions to reveal the people behind the industry. In this edition, we hear from Serge Houles, who heads up the day-to-day management of Tidan Capital while also leading the firm’s global marketing and business development efforts. With a deep and diverse background spanning quantitative research, risk management, and client relations across some of the world’s top hedge funds, Serge brings a rare combination of analytical rigor and entrepreneurial flair. But who is Serge when he’s not talking to clients, navigating markets or building businesses? We invited him to take a break from the Bloomberg terminal and join us in the Quirky Questions hot seat.

• You joined Tidan at a challenging period for the firm. What was it that made you see the light and take the leap? What was your own career risk management thinking at the time and was there a specific push that tipped the balance?

I had known the founders of Tidan from the very beginning, so joining never felt like a blind leap. I’d had countless long conversations with them — about their strategy, their vision for the firm, and the kind of culture they were building. I’d followed their journey closely, and while the timing may have seemed unconventional from the outside, for me it felt like the right moment.

Every absolute return strategy, no matter how strong, will go through tough periods. That’s the nature of trying to generate uncorrelated returns — you’re either going against consensus or exploiting it, but you’re rarely have the perfect timing. For longer-term, fundamentally driven strategies, it can take time for prices to reflect underlying value. I believed Tidan was at the turning point of one of those cycles.

The decision came down to two things: conviction in the investment philosophy, and trust in the people behind it. I asked myself a simple question: would I feel confident investing my own money here — or even that of someone close to me? The answer was yes. That was my personal risk and conviction test. Conviction is important to me. People that know me would say I rarely invest less than 100% in everything I undertake.

Beyond the investment case, there was a deeper alignment in values — a shared drive to build a client-centric firm, a commitment to doing things right, not just fast, and a belief in creating a more resilient business through diversification of both talent and strategies.

And then there was the name. Tidan — the only river in Sweden that flows north when most others flow south. It struck me as a quiet metaphor for the mindset of the team: willing to go against the current, not for the sake of being contrarian, but because they believed in their direction.

• Is there a team, strategy, or investment concept you would love to add under the Tidan umbrella? What do you feel is still missing or waiting to be built?

We’ve built Tidan as a platform designed to house a diverse range of strategies — and that’s very much by intent. Today, we have strategies that span both discretionary and systematic approaches, across asset classes, time horizons, and styles. Most importantly, they’ve all weathered different market conditions and proven their ability to adapt. In that sense, the core pieces are in place.

That said, one important milestone is just around the corner. We’re about to launch our multi-strategy program, Confluence, as a stand-alone fund — a strategy that’s already been live as a managed account since mid-2024. It’s something we’ve wanted to bring to life for a long time, as it ties together the strengths of each strategy while offering a more complete solution for allocators.

Looking further ahead, I’d love to see us add a truly hybrid fundamental/systematic strategy — one that blends human insight with quantitative precision. A strategy that speaks both “macro” and “quant” fluently.

We’re also exploring fixed income relative value strategies to complement our existing programs. It’s an area that aligns with our DNA: conviction-driven and alpha-focused, while expanding our universe in another area of fixed income instruments.

• You’re a tennis fan, both on the court and in front of the screen. Is that pure switch-off time, or do you find the rhythm, pressure, or decision-making in the game feeds into how you think as a CEO of an asset management firm?

Tennis has been a passion of mine for a long time. I try to watch as much as I can — when time allows — and I love playing too, though I probably take it a bit too seriously for something that’s meant to be relaxing. Even friendly games tend to turn into “winner takes all” battles.

What I enjoy is how much the game mirrors real life — and work. You come in with a plan, but you have to adjust on the fly depending on what your opponent throws at you. It’s technical, sure, but also a mental game. You need to stay focused, bounce back quickly after mistakes, and know how to ride the momentum when it’s going your way.

There are a lot of similarities with running a firm. You can’t get comfortable — past performance means very little if you don’t keep delivering. It’s all about discipline, resilience, and consistency. And like in tennis, very few make it to the top — and staying there takes even more discipline and focus than getting there.

So yes, tennis is my version of switching off — but maybe not everyone’s idea of relaxing.

That said, our business is very much a team effort. You don’t build a firm like Tidan alone. That’s probably why I’ve started playing more padel lately — it’s a proper team sport. I play with our CIO, Michael Falken. He used to play college tennis, equally competitive, and just as bad at losing as I am. Ambition is high. But it’s great fun, and nice to have a partner who can read the play — both in and outside the office.

• What is the most common misconception among institutional investors that you would most like to see disappear? What do you believe they typically spend too little time, effort or attention on despite its importance?

One thing I think we’re all still grappling with — both managers and allocators — is the tendency to rely too heavily on labels, style boxes, and historical track records when building portfolios. It’s understandable — those tools give structure and comfort. But markets don’t follow neat frameworks, and strategies evolve. What worked last year may not be what’s needed next year, and I think that’s where things get tricky.

I’d love to see more openness to allocating through periods of underperformance — when the underlying philosophy is still sound, and the team is doing the right things. Often, that’s when the best opportunities lie, but understandably, it’s also the hardest time to act.

I also feel the qualitative side of due diligence is still underused. So much of what drives long-term success — things like team cohesion, how decisions are made under pressure, or how a manager adapts to new regimes — isn’t easily captured in numbers. Yet it’s often what makes the difference.

So if there’s one shift I’d like to see, it’s moving from a mindset of “proving a strategy works” to one of understanding it — especially when it’s being tested.

• When IPM began to unravel, was there a moment you recognised as the true point of no return? If you could go back, where would you step in to shift the course? Would you change a decision, a mindset, or the way the story was told?

IPM ran a systematic macro strategy rooted in the idea that, over time, fundamentals drive markets — and that asset prices eventually converge toward their “true” value. It’s a philosophy shared by some of the greats, such as Bridgewater or GMO, and for many years, it worked incredibly well.

But starting around Brexit and through the first Trump era, markets began reacting less to long-term fundamentals and more to political noise, sentiment swings, and unconventional policy. Like many others in the space, IPM found itself out of sync with a market that was no longer behaving “rationally” in the traditional sense.

We did respond. I was involved in shaping some of the efforts to build new models that could adapt more quickly and better reflect fast-moving drivers. But by then, time wasn’t on our side. Developing and validating new strategies takes time, and unfortunately, investor patience had already run out.

If I could go back, I’d push for change earlier — not just in the models, but in the mindset. I would advocate for a more diversified business setup, bringing in external teams with different perspectives and complementary strategies. That’s actually something I feel strongly about today and one of the key reasons I aligned with the founders of Tidan. In this industry, it’s hard to build a resilient business on a single strategy, no matter how good it is. Staying power comes from diversification — not just for the firm, but ultimately for the benefit of investors too.

• If you could spend a day with any French figure, living or dead, who would it be, and what would you hope to learn or take away from the encounter, or what would you like that person to adopt from you? And if you could choose the exact moment in history for that meeting, when would it be?

I think I’d choose Pierre de Fermat. I’ve always had a deep fascination for maths, statistics, and logical reasoning — and what fascinates me even more is when someone takes something incredibly abstract and makes it practical or intuitive. In my career, I’ve often been most impressed not by the pure theorists, but by the people who can grasp complex ideas and apply them in the real world — the ones who are a bit street smart, in a mathematical sense.

I read Fermat’s Last Theorem years ago and it stuck with me. The idea that he had the answer but didn’t leave behind the proof — and that this single margin note ended up driving mathematical research for over 350 years — that’s just incredible. I’d love to sit with him at the very moment he scribbled that famous line, just to ask what he really meant, and whether he actually had the proof or was just teasing future generations.

I don’t know what I’d hope to teach him — probably not much — but I’d love to share how relevant his legacy still is. In a world obsessed with immediate results, his story reminds us that some ideas are powerful enough to outlive their creators. And that curiosity — the kind that leads you down a rabbit hole for no other reason than the joy of solving something — still matters.

• Today happens to be July 14, le quatorze juillet. Do you have any habits, small rituals or personal traditions you observe on Bastille Day, or is it just another Monday with a better cheese plate?

The 14th of July has always meant something special to me — and I think to most French people. I still remember learning about the Revolution in history class, following it almost like a story unfolding in real time. That was the moment when people stood up and claimed their freedom — and when you realise that freedom was never simply given, you understand just how powerful that moment was. It’s still not a given today.

Growing up, the words liberté, égalité, fraternité were everywhere — even printed on coins. You’d see them every day, sometimes without even thinking, but they slowly shape your sense of what matters.

So Bastille Day, for me, is a moment to pause and reflect on those values — and to remind myself why they still matter.

But it’s also tied to childhood memories. For people of my generation, July 14th marked the unofficial start of summer. There were concerts, street parties, and fireworks — and this real sense that the long holidays had begun. So yes, it’s meaningful. And if it comes with a good cheese plate too, all the better.