There's an old joke
that farmers used to tell each other. There are several variants, but this is
the one I know best.
A group of farmers
are at the market, selling watermelons. The first farmer approaches the second
and says, "Nice watermelons you have there… but you should see mine!"
So they walk over to his area at the market and, sure enough, his watermelons
are all bigger. The second farmer stands admiring them when a third farmer
approaches, and again says, "Nice watermelons; but mine are bigger."
They all walk over to the third farmer's platform to admire his, still larger,
watermelons. At last they all turn to a fourth farmer. With a smirk, they
notice that his produce is all a little bit smaller than theirs. "Nice
watermelons," they all say to him, exchanging knowing glances.
"Those aren't
watermelons," the fourth farmer says, "They're peas."
I thought of this
joke recently as I was considering the question of what makes a person
successful? If you ever browse LinkedIn, or various other
"hustle-porn" websites hell-bent on training you to be a more
productive corporate cog, you've seen what the modern view of
"success" is. There are only two colors of success in today's world:
Managerial success, and success in sales. There are no other valid forms of
success.
If you spend forty
years working for the same company, and no one ever makes you a manager, most
people think you never achieved anything. You might have been a programmer who
built the entire foundation of a software company. You might have been an actuary
who developed a valuation methodology that enabled the company to make
millions. You might have been an administrator who developed policies and
procedures so efficient that the entire corporation's cost structure was twice
as efficient as any other competing firm. But if no one made you a manager, and
if you didn't sell anything to anyone, people
will think you never accomplished anything at all!
Let's return to
those farmers. My grandfather was a quite successful fruit farmer. He didn't
create a corporate farm. He wasn't a brilliant people-manager. He didn't sell
anything other than his own fruit, for market price. But he was the best at
what he did. People knew that just by looking at his fruit. His apples were
among the largest and most delicious I have ever seen. In fact, I have only
ever tasted their equal once, and that was a thousand miles away in a different
country. He could measure his success by the size of his produce, by the volume
of his yield. He could literally taste his
success, and so could the rest of us. In the old days, that's what it meant to
be a successful farmer: You put food on people's table, delicious food, you
made money doing it, and you managed to acquire a little financial security
along the way.
That's it. Nobody
dismissed him for not being a manager. No one measured his capabilities as a farmer by taking stock of his ability to
sell his apples for a higher price than other farmers could sell similar
apples. He wasn't a manager. He wasn't a salesman. He was a farmer. He was a successful farmer.
But there is no
modern parallel for this kind of success. No one thinks that a programmer who
remains a programmer his whole life is successful unless
he becomes some kind of manager or salesman. And so it is for actuaries,
administrators, statisticians, nurses, and so on. These people either
"progress" to management, or to sales, or they are simply not successful.
This is bizarre.
There is more to life than being a manager or a salesperson. There is more to a
career than management and sales. Achieving great things at the ground level -
honing your craft and becoming the best at what you do, no matter what it is -
is an important measure of success.
Farmers used to measure this by the quality of their produce. But that's the
old world. The new world needs to figure this out, too.
As important as
management and sales are to any organization, they aren't "real
work." That is, if your business is printing books, you can't manage a book into existence. If your business
is software, you can't write code with sales.
At the end of the day, real things need to get done. Products need to be
manufactured and shipped. Services need to be performed. There is artistry
involved in every step of the process. That artistry is performed by human
beings, artists, people who perfect
their craft over years of experience.
Many of these people
never become managers or salespeople,
nor do they want to. Many of these people feel compelled to pursue managerial
or sales positions when they'd really be much happier staying where they are.
Faced with a single vision of what success is supposed to look like, they find
themselves in jobs they hate, or they find themselves ashamed of having never
climbed the corporate ladder. The sad part is that a large number of these
people are highly skilled experts of their fields who have absolutely no reason
to feel anything other than pride for their career success.
If there were
widespread recognition of, and appreciation for, something other than
management and sales, perhaps they would.
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