1977: I earn a Ph.D. in applied elementary high-energy particle physics. Get a post-doc position and move to the United States. Work at major U.S. particle accelerators for a year. Leave academic research forever. Since 1978 — that’s 41 years! — every job I’ve had didn’t exist a few years earlier.
1978: I join the management of Solar Alternative, a solar energy manufacturing business founded the previous year. Five years earlier, there were no such businesses in the United States.
1983: I start teaching computer science using personal computers in the classroom. IBM introduced the PC in 1981.
1984: I begin IT consulting for clients using personal computers. Businesses didn’t start using personal computers until the early 80’s.
1992: I organize a conference where there are no expert speakers available (it’s a new field, there are no experts). Invent a way to make the conference successful based on the collective needs, wants, and experience of the attendees. (The conference has run annually for the last 27 years.) This is something new. Organizations hear about this and ask me to design and facilitate their conferences.
2005: I realize that the conference process I invented and since improved is incredibly popular with participants. I decide to write a book about it, and in…
2009: I self-publish Conferences That Work: Creating Events That People Love. (Five years earlier, self-publishing was a minor industry for vanity projects. Now it’s the most common way authors publish.) I quickly discover the size and interest of the meetings industry. In demand, I become a meeting designer and facilitator of participant-driven, participation-rich meetings. Yet another career that had not existed before.
A conventional career
My parents once suggested I become an accountant. I politely declined and continued studying physics. I have nothing against conventional careers, but my life hasn’t turned out that way.
If I had to guess, it probably won’t.
And it probably won’t for you either.
Has the job you’re doing now just been invented? Share your experience in the comments below!
Although I’m simultaneously overwhelmed and underwhelmed by the thousands of books and videos about “leadership” pumped out every year, a recent quote struck a chord:
“You’ll do more good if you aim to serve more than you aim to please.” —S. Chris Edmonds
For context, watch this two-minute video:
While Chris focuses on the context of team leadership, I think that aiming to serve rather than please is also a useful rubric to keep in mind as a consultant. So here are three reasons why you should aim to serve, not please:
I’d like to add one more reason for leaving a job:
The pain of the job isn’t worth the gain.
Though this is related to Jerry’s 5th reason, I think it’s worth being explicit about the effect of a job on your mental, physical, or spiritual being. Many years ago I took on a client where every interaction was unpleasant. The owner argued with me about my recommendations, groused about my bills, and repeatedly implemented something different from what I had proposed and complained about the results. It took me a while, but one day I sat down and wrote him a letter that said I was unable to work for him anymore. It was the right decision, it felt good, and since then I’ve been better able to disengage in a timely fashion from work that isn’t working for me.
Sometimes you have no choice but to continue with a job you’d leave if circumstances were different. Sometimes you have no choice but to leave a job. But when you have a choice, don’t overlook your own needs because of a commendable but perhaps now misguided loyalty to the commitment you made when you began.
Once upon a time, I enjoyed a lucrative career as an independent IT consultant. For 20+ years, I turned down more work than I accepted. And I never advertised; all business came via word-of-mouth, from CEO to CEO.
There was plenty of competition, and yet most of my competitors struggled for work.
Want to know one of my secrets?
I’m a generalist.
My clients wanted their problems solved. There were three key reasons why they needed help:
My clients did not know what their problems were. (Yes, this sounds strange, stay with me.)
Their problems were complex, crossing traditional expertise boundaries.
Their problems were presented as technical issues, but invariably involved a critical people component.
When I started IT consulting, I thought companies would hire me because I had specialized technical skills they did not possess. Over time, I slowly realized that what made me valuable and useful to my clients were my abilities to:
Uncover their real problems;
Understand the entirety of what would be need to be done to solve their actual problems;
Diplomatically explore, explain, and convince clients of what needed to be done;
Successfully work with them to devise and implement effective solutions; and
Help them take ownership of the ongoing management of relevant issues so the problems didn’t reoccur.
Today’s hard problems straddle traditional specialities. Being a generalist in the realm of consulting means being willing and able to see and act on a bigger picture than clients typically initially present. For example, no one ever hired me to solve “people problems”, but I can’t recall a consulting assignment where human issues weren’t an important factor. Some examples:
A ten-year-old silent war between two department heads that had never been addressed;
The internal IT staffer who was crippling company growth because he knew far less than he claimed;
A CEO who hired a golf buddy to recommend that an appropriate and functional information system be replaced;
The operations manager who routinely made decisions without the authority to do so.
My successful IT consulting career combined adequate technical knowledge, business managerial experience (from five years managing a solar manufacturing company), good problem solving abilities, continuous acquisition of people skills, creativity, and a win-win mindset that focused on serving my clients rather than maximizing my income at their expense. During two decades of work, I saw many independent IT specialists who were, despite possessing technical knowledge superior to mine, unable to maintain a viable business.
I’m still a consultant today, but in a different field—meeting design. And I’m still a generalist, because good meeting design requires knowledge and skills in many different areas: production, andragogy (how adults learn), facilitation, and people skills, to name a few.
We are living in a world where the commodification of products and skills leads more and more quickly to a race to the bottom—“who can make/do this for the least amount of money/time?” (For example, accountancy, once seen as a secure well-paying profession, is increasingly outsourced and automated.) As a result, the advantages of the generalist mount because relatively few people have the required skill-set to solve problems that cross traditional specialties, and it’s easier to thrive in a field with, say, ten competitors as opposed to ten thousand.
We’re moving from working in the system that is a business, to working on the system. The consequence of this is that its becoming more important to have the general capabilities and breadth of experience that enable us to develop and improve the system in novel directions, than it is to have deep, highly entailed experience in working within the current system. There will always be a need for narrowly focused expertise in highly technical areas, but in the majority of cases the generalist now has an advantage over the specialist.
Are you a specialist or a generalist? How’s that working out for you?
Photo attribution: Flickr user environmental_illness_network
In his beautiful and insightful book “Being Mortal“, surgeon Atul Gawande describes a mistake clinicians frequently make. They “see their task as just supplying cognitive information—hard, cold facts and descriptions. They want to be Dr. Informative.”
Atul contrasts this with an approach offered by palliative care physician Bob Arnold:
“Arnold … recommended a strategy palliative care physicians use when they have to talk about bad news with people—they ‘ask, tell, ask.’ They ask what you want to hear, then they tell you, and then they ask what you understood.” —Atul Gawande, Being Mortal, pages 206-7
Reading this, I realize that “ask, tell, ask” is great advice for anyone who wants to connect fruitfully in a learning environment. Personally, over the years, I’ve become better at asking people what they want to learn (ask) before responding (tell), but I still often omit the second ask: “what did you understand?”
The follow-up ask is important for two reasons.
The obvious reason is that without it we do not know if anything we told has been heard/absorbed, and whether the listener’s understanding is complete and/or accurate.
A less obvious reason is that asking the listener’s understanding of what he heard allows him to process his understanding immediately, not only improving the likelihood that it will be retained and remembered longer but also allowing him to respond to what he has heard and deepen the conversation.
“Ask, tell, ask” assists transforming a putative one-way information dump from a teacher to a student into a learning conversation. I will work to better incorporate the second ask into my consulting interactions. Perhaps you will too?
If you are a “professional”, doing measurable work can be harmful to your future.
For over a hundred years, management has been obsessed with measuring what workers do. The rationale was to improve efficiency, and cut out the dead wood. Until quite recently, this affected mainly factory workers. White-collar workers were relatively safe.
Not any more.
Computers have allowed scientific management principles to be applied to an ever-increasing number of professions. The result?
“What’s the close rate, the change in user satisfaction, the clickthroughs, the likes?
You can see where this is heading, and it’s heading there fast:
You will either be seen as a cog, or as a linchpin. You will either be measured in a relentless race to the bottom of the cost barrel, or encouraged in a supportive race to doing work that matters, that only you can do in your unique way.
It’s not easy to be the person who does unmeasurable work, but is there any doubt that it’s worth it?” —Seth Godin, Scientific Management 2.0
Another issue of an occasional series—Dear Adrian—in which I answer questions about event design, elementary particle physics, solar hot water systems, and anything else I might conceivably know something about. If you have a question you’d like me to answer, please write to me (don’t worry, I won’t publish anything without your permission).
How much “free” consulting should a consultant offer during initial discussions with a client before requesting pay for services?
When consultant and client meet for the first time there’s naturally a certain amount of sizing-up going on.
A potential client is looking for a solution to a problem, and is wondering if the consultant can help him, whether he can trust what she says, how much she will cost, how soon she will be available—and all these considerations and more will be taken into account before a decision is made whether to engage her services.
A client is hoping to find the help he needs as quickly as possible, but wants to feel confident that the chosen consultant can help effectively for an acceptable price. He may believe that his problem can be fixed easily by someone with the right expertise, and be hoping (or expecting) to get his problem solved quickly, perhaps at no charge.
A consultant is wondering what she needs to learn about the client, what the client thinks the problem is, what the problem might actually be, whether she’s capable of helping the client, whether she can get paid what she’d like to get paid, whether she’s going to have the time, resources, and inclination to work with the client in a timely fashion, and so on.
From a consultant’s point of view, time spent working to get an initial sense of a client’s needs, determine that he is a fit for her expertise and abilities, and convey enough of her capabilities to reassure the client that she is the right person for the work is non-billable. Too much non-billable time, and a consultant starts to have problems paying her own bills.
Naturally, these client and consultant concerns take time to resolve, leading to the above-mentioned Dilemma.
I have been consulting for over thirty years and have participated in hundreds of initial client-consultant dances. (I like to think of them as dances: mysterious, exciting, full of the possibility of creating something great together, sometimes disappointing.) In my experience, a contracting minuet can take as little as ten minutes or…well, let’s just say far too long. Client or consultant can trip over any of the obstacles I’ve already listed and decide to walk away.
So, what’s a consultant to do?
David Allen, of Getting Things Done fame, coined the Two Minute Rule to determine whether a task that interrupts current activity should be handled on the spot—answer: yes, but only, if it can be completed in less than two minutes—or captured to be performed later. I doubt he chose 120 seconds based on some deep scientific analysis, it’s his rule of thumb (which I’ve found to be useful), presumably based on years of experience.
In a similar vein I offer my Thirty Minute Rule for resolving the Consultant’s Dilemma.
I told Tony that I’ll talk to any potential paying client for up to thirty minutes for free. At that point, if the client is still looking for free advice I’ll gently explore options for transitioning to a paid consultation. Sometimes, of course, it’s clear that we’re not going to move forward. No blame need be assigned, it just happens. Otherwise I’ll generally have enough information to propose next steps. And if my client doesn’t have sufficient trust in me after thirty minutes, then I’ve found it’s unlikely I’m going to change his mind by staying on the call.
The Thirty Minute Rule doesn’t include the time required for creating a contracting agreement or proposal. If I judge that we’ve a good chance of creating a win-win consulting arrangement I’ll create a short document and send it to the client for approval. This rarely takes more than an additional thirty minutes. If the document requires significant client-specific research I’ll ask for appropriate compensation to create it.
The Thirty Minute Rule is my reasonable compromise between the competing needs of consultant and client. If you’re a consultant reading this, what do you think? Do you have your own “free consulting time” rule? Feel free to share yours in the comments!
Architecture students bristle when Joshua Prince-Ramus tells them that they are entering a rhetorical profession. A great architect isn’t one who draws good plans. A great architect gets great buildings built. Now, of course, the same thing is true for just about any professional. A doctor has to persuade the patient to live well and take the right actions. A scientist must not only get funded but she also has to persuade her public that her work is well structured and useful. It’s not enough that you’re right. It matters if it gets built. —Seth Godin, If you can’t sell it, you can’t build it
A great reminder from Seth, as usual.
As a consultant you have no authority, only influence. And sometimes you will fail.
Even if you’re right and do an amazing selling job, sometimes you will fail.
Because sometimes it’s not about you, it’s about them.
If you can’t handle failure—having your great advice ignored—you won’t be consulting for long.