September 26, 2006

What is Job Security?

Security_1 In 1995, I was teaching job search skills to laid-off workers in the Allentown/Bethlehem area of Pennsylvania. At that time, we were seeing a ton of former Bethlehem Steel workers who had made a phenomenal living doing relatively unskilled labor. We were also working with the last of the sewing machine operators from the garment industry.

Both the (largely) men from "the Steel" and the (largely) women from the sewing plants had been living the American Dream for many years. While by no means wealthy, they had been able to send children to college, have a decent home and a second house at the shore and generally live a solid middle-class life with little more than a 6th grade education, nimble fingers (or a strong back) and a willingness to put up with a LOT of crap from supervisors. In return, they had expected basically one thing (besides the wages, of course)--job security.

During my classes, we spent a lot of time talking about the death of job security and the fact that the only security they could have for the future was skills security. They got this, although they weren't happy about the fact that the skills they were in a position to develop were only going to get them jobs that paid at best half of what they'd made in their heydays at 'the Steel" or "the factory."

I think that in the past 11 years, though, we've seen an even bigger shift, one that I'm not sure we've fully absorbed as workers. Yes, most of us get that the road to job security is having the skills that are in demand in the workplace. But what we DON'T seem to get is that using those skills at just one company may be just as suicidal as not having them at all.

Dan Pink has been talking for several years  about living in Free Agent Nation and Tom Peters has been preaching the realities of working for "You Inc." since 1997. I've been a fan of their thinking for a while now and many of their ideas have guided my own career path. But  Cathy Seip's discussion (via the Dynamist) about "job security"  got me thinking about this whole issue again.

Cathy says:

"But I've always felt more job security as a freelance writer than I did as a newspaper staffer. And even [Barbara] Ehrenreich admitted at the PBS press conference that as a freelance writer, she's probably better off now than most of the traditional media types in the audience.

I know how she felt. If I were to lose one of my regular gigs, for instance, I'd be unhappy; but unlike the laid-off staffer, my income wouldn't suddenly plummet to zero. In a world of constant corporate downsizing, anyone who doesn't realize this is sadly out of date.

Several years ago, as it happens, a veteran editor doing some consulting work at a local mid-sized newspaper offered me a staff job. Knowing the paper's legendary cheapness, I explained that I doubted they'd be able to come up with as much money I made freelancing - and it would have to be a LOT more for me to even bother thinking about it.

"Why would it have to be MORE," he asked, sounding genuinely shocked. "What about the SECURITY?"

Now I was shocked. This guy had been in the business half-a-century, witnessing God knows how many tanking media enterprises and in-with-the-new, out-with-the-old staff reorganizations, and he still could use the words "security" and "newspapers" in the same sentence without laughing?

I guess so. But as I explained, he'd have to count me out of that particular deadpan club."

I've been on both sides of the fence and I get where Cathy's coming from.

About a year and a half ago, I went to work for a former client of mine after spending several years as a freelancer. With a daughter going to college and my mid-40's with no savings staring me in the face, I thought that it made sense to get some "stability" in my life. What I had forgotten about, though, was the fact that when you work for someone else, you are at the mercy of their business decisions. Rather than learning from the experiences of most of my friends who had been laid off not once, not twice, but several times within a 10-year span, I thought to myself that being an employee brings greater security, so I went for it.

But the reality is, as Cathy points out, when you rely on your employer to be your brand, then you're limiting your options in ways that may ultimately be career killers. Freelancing is scary, sure. No health insurance (fortunately I'm on my husband's), you can't count on regular paychecks, and the job of getting clients falls squarely on your shoulders. But if you've done the work of diversifying your client base, then when work slows or disappears with one customer, you don't end up in the unemployment line.

Somehow I recognized this (without the thought being as cogent or conscious as Cathy's perceptions) and a few months ago I re-joined the freelancer ranks. I continue to do work for my former employer, but I'm now able to pursue other clients as well. And even better than that, I'm able to use a larger set of my skills because instead of doing the work that my employer wants me to do, I'm able to look at myself and say "This is what I have to offer--how and where do I want to use it?" It's a very freeing realization and one that I think will, in the end, bring me far greater security than I ever had as an employee.

What I wish, though, is that more people realized the realities of this new world. There is still a somewhat mistaken belief that working for a company will be more secure than working for yourself. For a large segment of jobs, this is simply not the case. And more than that, it ends up being the company that benefits from the value you bring, rather than you reaping the total benefit of the skills you have to offer.

In the end, I think it's time that we re-evaluated the meaning of "job security" and looked at what that really means in the new economy. As part of figuring out what to do with our careers I think we need to get a better handle on the environment in which we're conducting them.

September 20, 2006

Hot Jobs for the New Breed of Workers

The other day we were talking about the new breed of workers.  Now Fast Company has a slide show on 9 Hot Jobs for Web 2.0. A pretty interesting combination of technical and "soft" skills with a particular emphasis on usability and design.

Even more interesting is their list of 6 jobs that won't exist in 2016, including:

  • Auto Mechanic (cars will be running on software so no need for the "grease monkey")
  • U.S. High Tech Workers (who will presumably now be repairing your car)
  • Advertising Creatives (apparently we amateurs do a better job of marketing than the professionals)
  • Bloggers (at least the kind who would get paid)

Predicting where we'll be in 10 years is a pretty dicey proposition, but one thing that is very certain is that there WILL be change. Which brings me back to the issue of needing to prepare for the future by looking at skill trends, not job trends. Just because creative types may not be necessary in advertising doesn't mean that creative skills won't be valued and needed--most likely just in a different context.

I do agree with Dan Pink that we're continuing to see a need for design, empathy and symphony and their associated skill sets. I also see where we are doing very little to prepare people for this future, particularly our kids, which is pretty scary to me. We need a plan, people. . .

September 19, 2006

Alternative Careers

Pirate Apparently its "Talk Like a Pirate Day." Who knew they were making a come-back?

September 17, 2006

The Rejection Experiment--It Pays To Ask

Rejection_2 Wow. So within 20 minutes, I get a positive reply from Barry who is willing to answer some questions. I appreciate that I don't have to deal with rejection my first time out. Building up a little confidence is a good thing.

I've also realized the power of experimentation. When you're "experimenting" with a new behavior, it does a few good things psychologically. First, it provides what for me is much-needed objectivity. If I'm "experimenting," I'm a scientist seeing what happens as I try different things and then reporting on the results.

The second thing it does is not commit me to some major change of habit--it's a time-limited thing that I can choose to continue later or not. But if I'm just seeing what happens for 30 days, this doesn't mean I'm doing this for the rest of my life.

Tricking myself into doing what's good for me is generally necessary I've found.

The Rejection Experiment--First Findings

Rejection_1 OK, the first thing I've learned is this--it is better to spend less time on crafting my request (in this case, my e-mail to Barry), less time reading and re-reading what I've written and less time pondering the wisdom of hitting the "send button." Each of those steps offers me an opportunity to NOT take the chance and the longer I spend on them, the more likely I am to not take the risk.

In the past I've used a glass of wine or two to provide me with the false courage necessary to say or do something that might risk rejection. I'm happy to report that I sent the e-mail fueled only with a few cups of coffee and the knowledge that I've just publicly promised that I would actually engage in this experiment for 30 days.

I've also learned that public promises help the project along. And that AFTER hitting the send button, there's plenty of time for regret.

The Rejection Experiment

Rejection I have a confession to make. I despise rejection. No really, I hate hearing "no." Inevitably I regard a "no" as a personal rejection. My internal critic goes into overdrive to help things along, letting me know that the reason I was told "no," is because I'm a piece of sh*t (my internal critic is pretty profane) and that the best way to deal with "no" is to just not ask in the first place.

I suspect that I'm not alone in this feeling. At least I hope I'm not (my internal critic says that I am, but I'm trying to get the critic to just shut up once in a while). I think that's another reason that I hate rejection--I assume that I'm the only person who feels this way. That in fact of everyone in the entire universe, I've been singled out for "no" because of my unique constellation of personality characteristics and short-comings. Obviously if I was someone else, I would have been given a "yes," right?

This fear of rejection is a dangerous thing for me, particularly given that I am self-employed, making my living consulting to government and non-profit agencies and must hear "no" a fair amount of the time. ("No, although we'd love to do what you suggest, we just don't have the a) the funding, b) the people, c) the resources or d) all of the above.") Even if I'm given perfectly legitimate reasons for the "no," I still have a tendency to suspect it's because they think my suggestion sucks or that I'm an idiot. Or both.

I'm thinking about this today for a few reasons. Earlier this week I had a very nice e-mail from Barry Schwartz  thanking me for posting about his book, The Paradox of Choice. I was flattered that he would take the time to send me an e-mail and wrote back to thank him for responding. We had a brief, pleasant e-mail exchange and then I moved on. But throughout the day, I kept thinking about how I'd love to do a an e-mail interview with him to post here. Just ask him a few more questions about his book and where his research is taking him now.

Some people would, without thinking, send the man a quick e-mail and see if he'd be interested. But for me, the fear of rejection becomes a huge stumbling block. Despite the fact that if he said no, it would probably be because of time constraints or a policy of not doing this or whatever, I still would think that he thought I was an idiot and that's why he said no. (You'll notice that I also walk into it believing that he WOULD say "no." The possibility of "yes," is very far in the distance for me).

This got me thinking in general about my really dysfunctional relationship with "no." And then I started thinking about how, despite my belief that I'm the only one who takes rejection personally, I think a lot of other people are held back by their fear of "no." Which got me thinking about how it's easier for me to do things to help others than to help myself, so maybe I should try a little experiment with "no" and share the results here to see what happens when you court rejection by taking some risks you wouldn't normally take. Which led me to the Rejection Experiment.

So here's my plan. For the next month, I'm going to try seeking out rejection. I'm going to try to innoculate myself against my No-phobia by going against my instincts and actually going after rejection. (Basically I'll be doing a George Costanza, hopefully with similarly good results, although I don't need a girlfriend, a job with the Yankees or to move out of my parents' house). 

In my case this means that for 30 days I will ask the questions that come into my head, I will pursue the opportunities that come my way, rather than talking myself out of them and I will say the things that I usually tell myself I should have the good sense to keep quiet about. I will share the results here, hoping that my experiences help others who have a similarly dysfunctional relationship with rejection.

I considered doing this for a week, rather than a month. But then I decided that it was my fear talking and that if I want to really do something to change my no-phobia, I need to tackle this for a longer period of time. So a month it is.

So let the Experiment begin. And I'm going to start with Barry. Either way we win on this--we either get to read his e-mail Q&A or we get to see how I deal with rejection. A win-win proposition, right?

September 10, 2006

The Bamboo Project Manifesto

A few days ago I was cleaning out some of my bookmarks and came across Bruce Mau's Incomplete Manifesto for Growth. I'm a big fan of manifestos. There's something revolutionary in them that I love. I also dig the idea of making a public declaration of my beliefs. It forces me to really think about what they are.

For several months now, I've been working with a partner, discussing the mistakes we see in how companies manage their people and the kinds of mistakes that people make in managing their individual careers. The world is changing more rapidly than we can really keep up and it seems to us that new things are required for how we all operate.

At any rate, through this blog and its companion, Bamboo Us (written by my partner) we intend to explore the issues that face both individuals and organizations in the 21st century (that sounds a little grand, actually). More to the point, we want to explore the ideas that can help us all work better and make work better in a changing world.

So our manifesto. . .(a work in progress and in no particular order):

1. Life is too short to focus on "overcoming your weaknesses." We have far more weaknesses than we could ever overcome anyway.

2. You should live a little bit of your future every day. Even if you're not sure what that future is, take a step toward it, no matter how small

3.  Life is more fun when you're on the right bus, sitting in your favorite seat.

4. Live your values. Know what they are, revisit them often and always seek to keep your life and your career in alignment with what you believe.

5. Change something small every day. It will help you learn how to take on the big changes. And sometimes it will help you avoid "big" changes altogether.

6.  Stop courting perfection. It's a myth and a lie perpetrated by those who would have you believe that you can control the world. You can't. So give it up.

7.  Build a career from your strengths and find ways to manage around your weaknesses. Then help others do the same.

8.  Embrace your mistakes. They will teach you far more than your successes.

9.  "Do what works. Kill what doesn't. Repeat." (borrowed from Seth Godin)

10.  Know the rules. Then break 'em and make up your own.

11. Let your experiences shape you, like water shapes the rocks over which it flows. Don't try to dam the water or divert it to another course. It will find find you. Let it do its work.

12.  When everything's going right, the universe is trying to tell you something.

13.  When everything's going wrong, the universe is trying to tell you something.

14. For the individual, professional development is a right, not a privilege. For an organization, it's an investment, not an expense. For everyone, learning is the bedrock of success.

September 08, 2006

The Art of the Zoom

For the past 10 years, I've been waiting for life to settle down. Then about two weeks ago, I was re-reading Seth Godin's Survival is Not Enough and came across this heading:

"Change is the New Normal"

Well, duh. Yeah, it is. Life is NEVER going to settle down because life IS change. I just happen to live in a time when change is happening at warp speed so it feels like I don't even get the chance to breathe. So I accept reality. Now what?

So I read further and another big duh:

"Many employees fear change. Fear of change is rational--after all it can lead to bad outcomes. But now, NOT changing is more likely to lead to a bad outcome than changing!"

OK, so now he REALLY has my attention. Then I read:

"Companies that embrace change for change's sake, companies that view a state of constant flux as a stable equilibrium, zoom. And zooming companies evolve faster and easier because they don't obstruct the forces of change"

And then. . .

Once you train the organization to evolve regularly and effortlessly, change is no longer a threat. . . If your company is too reliant on your winning strategy, you won't evolve as quickly."

So what if I apply this to myself? I've been doing the same kind of work for a while now. I develop some new skills here and there, but I've most definitely relied on a "winning strategy" to keep me going. What if I haven't evolved enough? What if I've grown fat and happy on the stability of my old business model when in fact I need to do something to adapt to a new way of functioning in the world? I like to pride myself on being a life-long learner, but what if I'm wrong?

Says Seth:

"To often, companies organize themselves around one and only one winning strategy and then rely on plan P when the external factors don't pan out. Alas, Plan P is to panic."

And people do the same thing. I've seen it a million times. After 10 years of consulting work with Department of Labor clients, I've been around a TON of laid off people, most of whom didn't see it coming. They'd relied on a strategy that worked for years and then one day it didn't. And they were stuck.

So what to do? How do you evolve so you can zoom?

For me, it's been about starting to play around with things, to experiment. Not just in the work that I do, but outside of the work that I do, too. I love Dan Pink's work and the kinds of skills he says we'll need for the future, so I work at those. I'm also trying to bring in new, surprising elements that shake me out of my old ways of doing things, which in turn help me to evolve. Change one thing a day and soon you've changed a hundred things and you didn't even know it.

But beyond that, for me, is dropping my perfectionism and being willing to make mistakes, to do something new and be OK with it not being perfect.

So I go to Illustration Friday every week and submit a drawing. As someone who was never "good" at art, this challenges my perceptions and forces me to be OK with work that isn't professional or perfect. And seeing other people's work is a wonderful source of stimulation and delight.

I try to do 100 words (although I haven't made it a whole month) because I love the challenge and discipline of trying to say something true and real, even if it's stupid, in exactly 100 words.

I use Keri Smith's ideas to infuse my work with my personality because in doing so, it forces me to go back to my core strengths and values, which in turn makes me evolve and adapt them in new ways as I work with my customers.

And I watch Ze Frank because . . . well, the man experiments. Every day he's saying something bizarre, yet oddly profound, and that's an energy I want more of in my life. And he makes me laugh, which is also a good thing to have going on.

Careers are evolutionary. There's no real planning for them because you simply can't know what lies ahead. But what I can plan for is to evolve and to grow. So I'm focusing on the art of the Zoom.