Getting good at the new thing
Kevin Kelly recently posted a great essay entitled What You Don't Have To Do. He sets out hierarchy of ascending levels of 'working smart': -
- Doing what is required
- Doing more than is required
- Trying as many roles as you can in order to discover what you are smart at
- Making sure you are spending your time on jobs that are effective or that need to be done at all
- Do only jobs (that really need to be done) that you are good at doing
- Doing that work that no one else could do
This is a profoundly elegant understanding of what success looks like. It's how a good careers have always unfolded: apprentice then journeyman then master.
When I think about those around me in unhappy careers (which is not the same as being in an unhappy workplace) oftentimes there's a disconnect between where someone believes he sits on this ladder and what the employer believes. You won't be paid a premium to do something only you can do until you prove you can do the things anyone else can do*. A clear sign that you've gotten this wrong is when your veiled threats about quitting are met with bemusement. Or relief. You will only extract a greater cost from your employer if you're operating at Level 6. The leading lady can shut down production by staying in her trailer. The extra playing Nervous Inmate #3 cannot.
Having a relatively new career in stand-up comedy to compare with longer ones in pharma consultancy and improv provides me with a natural experiment in this. As a consultant I'd like to think I operate at Level 5 and occasionally 6; I deliver good work and many clients reckon that only I can do that work. As a stand-up comic I strive to stay at Level 2 where success on any given night is measured in doing more than simply surviving the show. But perhaps the bitterest pill to swallow is that even though I'm a 20-year improv veteran (i.e. I started this before consultancy) I'm no more than a solid Level 4. Whilst I can be relied on to deliver a solid performance, I've never been indispensable to the long-term success of a show.
My proof that this is more than an unusually piquant blend of my standard brew of self-pity and smugness is that whereas I often get unsolicited approaches to do consulting work that is interesting, specialised (and therefore lucrative) in the comedy world I'm just another name on a list. Without a constant effort keeping my name in front of promoters I don't get gigs.
Nevertheless though hard work and luck I have one aspect of my working life, consulting, where I'm seen as a bit special. Regardless of what the motivational bloggers say, not everyone has or will ever have that. The brutal fact is that even sweat and ego-free dedication do not guarantee progression in an adult life. This is why a late-life career change scares us so: what if we run out of time to actually get good at the new thing?
* Freelancers: replace the phrase 'the employer' with 'the market'.