This thread gets me steamed. Not at anyone in the thread, but because I’ve recently been wondering about the decisions I’ve made in my career. Just after I started my career (ca 1984), my group head, who’d eventually become a good friend, told me that the best advice he’d ever heard relating to working was, “Train your replacement.” Upon first blush, that seems self-evidently true. By making your work of such high quality that anyone can pick it up and build upon it, or by explicitly mentoring someone or volunteering for internal teaching opportunities, you (a) show how valuable you are and (b) that you’re already operating at a level slightly above your position and (c) enable them to promote you up rather than have you chained to a particular piece of work.
This worked out well for me for about fifteen years, but since the turn of the century, I’ve not really made much progress. First, the whole thing only makes sense if managers are making good decisions based on their correct understanding of everything involved. Second, it only works if there’s a healthy flow of people into and out of the environment, and can only be evaluated over a long term. Third, maybe I should have thought more, because expecting managers to make good decisions based on their understanding of things is, well, not supported by my empirical observations. Many have a history of making bad or at least misguided decisions, and realistically, the majority will only help advance my career if they can see how it might help their own careers.
My managers get replaced whenever we reorganize, which is about once every 15 months. A guy I once worked with summed it up with a sign on his cubicle wall: if my boss calls, please ask him to leave his name and number, and I’ll get back to him. (That isn’t relevant, but I think the line is funny). The thing is, I’ve worked about half my career on things that my managers can’t know about, because they lack the specific security clearance. Even the managers who know me have to rely on second hand info from the program managers. So, people in more “vanilla” programs get a lot of attention, because their bosses can see the good jobs they do. For me, well, a program manager may or may not advocate for me, but I can’t hold my breath. Like CEOs, they exist in a world with only one goal: how do I keep my own program going? Do I think about the crisis that’s before me right now (because everything’s a crisis) or do I sit down and prepare notes to have a thoughtful conversation with groo’s line manager about his contributions to the company’s long term success?
I dunno. I haven’t gotten a promotion in eight years, and I grow weary of putting on a happy-and-not-the-least-bit-jealous smile and congratulating people who’ve just been promoted above me. And what hurts is that I usually agree that they deserve promotions because I, along with everyone else, can see the good work they’ve done. But somewhere in there I thought I was doing a bang-up job as well.
Any ideas? Corroborating or refuting observations?