Category: career

I was hired by a company because I was the only person who knew how something worked. There was no one else so I could name my price.

I’m a linchpin.

I’ve never been one before.

It feels.. good.

The company needs me more than I need them. I can’t leave or part of the business will struggle. They are flexible with my availability. They bend the rules for me. They genuinely care if I am unwell. I am needed.

I’m also a risk.

Knowledge needs to be transferred.

Linchpins cannot remain as such forever.

Enjoy it while you can.

I’ve worked both good and bad contracts. I’ve seen what works and what doesn’t. I’ve seen great successes and bad failures. Sometimes really bad failures. That no matter what you say or do you can’t prevent the inevitable. So you watch, you observe, you learn.

There are case studies on failed businesses that you can study. There are even books, like Boo Hoo. People like to read about the success stories, not the failures. Read both. A balanced education is good. It’s far cheaper to learn from other people’s mistakes.

Living through the fall of a business can be interesting. Especially if you have no skin in the game, and you are financially secure, and confident in your skill-set’s marketability. You learn to spot the signs. Customers going quiet on you, senior management updating their LinkedIn profiles, less orders coming in, shareholder changes, whispering in corridors, linchpins leaving, less work coming your way.

As the topple starts you begin to see moves to stop the fall. Redundancies, reduced budgets, delayed payments, and shelved projects. Once everyone was asked to take a pay cut. Temporary of course. Just to help keep the company going.

Then the fall happens. Sadness follows. Why oh why? After all you put in. You weren’t steering. You were merely a cog. Hopefully a well paid one. One that will fit nicely into another company. One that hopefully won’t fail. 

Old certifications aren’t worth anything in my opinion.

Let me clarify. Unless you are constantly using the knowledge that you gained when acquiring the certification, you will soon forget it. As more time passes the more you forget.

I have an electronics certification from a long long time ago. That does not mean I know a lot about electronics. I can remember bits, but I’ve forgotten most of it. Most of it is probably out of date anyway.

Yet people still put qualifications and certifications on their CVs and LinkedIn profiles from decades ago in the hope that it will help them secure a job, even though they’ve forgotten everything they learned.

Sold time. That is all that employment is.

You agree terms for selling your time to someone. They agree to pay you a certain amount in return for your time and skills, and in return you sell them a certain amount of your time, lets say six months for a contract, or maybe it’s perpetual in terms of employment, with annual reviews, maybe.

Yet after the initial negotiations and contract agreement, and after you’ve settled in, you start getting a little bored. There’s not enough holidays. Maybe you feel another sick day coming on. You start to hate the fact that you have to get up and go to work.

The thing is, it all just comes down to the fact that you sold your time and now you are having second thoughts, or maybe you want to renegotiate, or maybe you want out of the agreement altogether.

Life is too short to keep working at a job you don’t like. Sell your time to someone else or maybe even take a break. Sell some time back to yourself. Give notice and find someone else who would like to pay for your time, doing something you will enjoy.

We only have so much time to sell, so sell your time wisely.

What is the definition of a professional? Originally it was someone that gets paid for the work they do. Is that still the case? Amateurs get paid. Even bad ones, although we tend to call them cowboys. Another definition is someone with a profession. A blogger is a profession. Doesn’t mean they get paid. Not much anyway.

To me a professional is someone with a skillset that is needed and paid for, and where they take pride in their work and the quality of the skills they offer. It’s someone that works at their profession, improving their skills and range. Someone that is seen as somewhat of an expert at what they do. A pro.

A pro at their profession.
A professional.

Life is just a game. Careers are just a part of that game. Some people take it way too seriously. Optimising their chances to get to the top of some perceived career ladder, with each rung a goal that they have set for themselves. Reaching each rung, achieving each goal, the top of the ladder ever closer. Yet everyone is playing a different game with every game both separate and overlapping. Beating the competition to obtain a job role that will help you get nearer to your end goal.

Look at LinkedIn. It’s a forum for those who play the game. Making contacts that can help you achieve your goals. Promoting yourself, talking game theory, planning, techniques. Hours spent playing the game.

Go back a generation or two and everything was different. It wasn’t all about having a career it was just about working, earning a wage in order to pay the bills, to live. True, there were some who wanted to rise to the top of their field. Probably banking or government. The rest were just happy to be earning. Work was something you did to get paid.

I’ve been consulting for a while. Working on my own. I miss working with other professionals. They make me up my A game each day, every day. Working as a team getting the job done. Coming in under budget meeting deadlines.

Then everything ends. Completion. End of project. We all move on to the next gig. The next contract. Maybe we’ll work with other professionals, like us. Or maybe it will be just us, alone, hired by a board, or group, or someone that you only see at the start and end of the project. A resource hired to get the job done. A lone professional. Someone with a particular set of skills and the experience to get the job done in the time and budget allocated.

It can be lonely. A new place, new people. You explore the area on lunch breaks. Go for walks, find new places to eat. Getting the steps in. Back at your desk you make progress, complete tasks, move closer to the end.

Then the end comes. You move on again to the next contract, and the next, and the next.

It can be rewarding at times, lonely at others. You take pride in your work. You complete each contract leaving happy clients behind as you move on to the next. Maybe there will be a new friend at the next, or maybe a fun team that you will be a part of. While it lasts anyway. Nothing lasts in this game so enjoy it while it does. One day there will be no more contracts.

I’ve been thinking about the benefits of being indispensable. Being truly indispensable.

When looking at companies, analysing where costs can be saved you quickly identify the linchpins and bottlenecks. Linchpins are those that the company needs to function, and were they to leave, the company may struggle or even fail. Bottlenecks are those that slow processes and functions down. They need improvement or more help in order to unblock the flow.

Being a linchpin has its pluses and minuses. You get to feel how every employee should feel: needed, appreciated, respected. Time off is permitted (as long as you come back) and your requests are quickly addressed. Mistakes are not overly chastised and even HR likes you. The company needs you and makes you feel needed.

The downside is that they call you when you are sick, when you are on holiday, when you are not on the clock. Usually because no one else can do what needs doing, or answer what needs answering.

If you were to think of leaving you have to give a long notice period and your contract contains clauses into the future preventing you from working where you want, with whomever you want. Among other restrictions.

The benefits of being indispensable.