Somebody has to do it

The best sentences are the ones that start with, “No offense.” It’s like a conversational get-out-of-jail-free card. If the words that come next are offensive, well, that’s probably your fault for missing the start of the sentence. Wherein you were told not to be offended. So, really, this is less about the words that come after and more about your inability to follow simple instructions.

These wonderful sentences are made even better when they are delivered by your children.

Um, no offense, but that dress doesn’t look that flattering on you. Like, around the middle. 

No offense, but whatever version of this vegetable/dinner/vacation you made isn’t as good as a version I had one time somewhere else.

You’re in all black again. No offense, but you look goth.

Kids will keep you humble. Whether you are expressly shopping for that humility or not. They aren’t trying to be mean, per se. It’s just that the idea that parents are fully realized humans or have feelings is pretty theoretical for most kids. So you use all of your facial muscles to maintain a neutral expression while they deliver whatever words come next.

Recently, our youngest offered up this one:

No offense, but I’m pretty sure neither of us want to run Raw Signal Group when we grow up.

Followed by our eldest:

Yeah, no offense, but I just don’t think I ever want to be a boss.

It’s worth noting that no one had asked either child to formulate a succession plan. Nor offered either child a management role. But preemptively and proactively, they wanted to make sure we knew that they weren’t keen on our life’s work. Cool, cool, cool. Neutral expressions all around.

Goofing aside, our kids are right on trend. A recent survey found that 72% of Gen Zers prefer an IC path over management. No offense, but they too, don’t really want to be bosses.

But it doesn’t matter. Because that’s not actually how most people end up in management.

Why did you say yes?

We’ve asked thousands of bosses for the story of how they got into management. If you haven’t, you don’t have to find thousands, but you should start by asking the people managers within your org. The answers are fascinating. And pretty consistent.

They typically start the same way. With some highly personal element that makes management seem like the least likely choice.

Well, I went to school for art history. I never really even thought about office work back then…

Note that for the first part of their track, these folks are part of the 72% who have no interest in managing teams. But the story is about to change. Not for every boss. Not all the time. But when you ask people how they got into management, more than half of them point to a moment of clear organizational need.

We were working really hard on a thing and our last boss left and somebody had to do it. And no one wanted to. But the other option was that they were gonna bring in someone from outside who didn’t know our team. And didn’t know the org. And that felt worse.

So I put my hand up.

Somebody has to do it and all the alternatives are worse is a hilarious through-line for management stories. And it is the difference between what you say in a poll and what you do when you know your team is counting on you.

Oh, not me though

Someone should do something, obviously. It’s pretty clear where the problems are, and what it would take to solve them. It’s honestly frustrating that no one has acted on it already. Our leadership is good at some things, but this is a place where they really seem incapable or unwilling to do what the org needs.

…

Have you ever said this? Because we hear it a lot. We hear this from individual contributors, and we hear it from team leads and line managers, and we hear it from Directors and VPs, too. And when we ask the inevitable follow-up question…

What are you gonna do about it?

The answer is always the same.

Oh, not me though.

Sometimes it’s the first time you’ve said it out loud, but often it’s a well-rehearsed script. I don’t want that gig. That headache. I did it once before and I didn’t like it. I’ve got enough problems already. I’m not interested in being a boss. Or I’m not interested in being a boss of bosses. Or I’m not interested in being the boss.

And like, okay. Maybe that’s all there is to it. Not everyone dreams of climbing, and those who do should be treated with at least a basic amount of suspicion, right? Whatever level you’re at — IC, team lead, Director — you can have a fulfilling and rewarding career there. Lots of people do. And the room where it happens probably can’t fit everyone, anyhow.

And we’ll believe you as long as you tell us you’re okay rolling with whatever comes out of that room.

What if you’re not okay with whatever?

We’re not going to bust out The Man in the Arena on you. It’s early. And that’s really more Brené’s schtick than ours. If thoughtful critique is your path in to engaging with questions of organizational leadership and complexity, so be it. In a truly great organization, critique from the edges is welcome, can get attention, and drives change — criticism counts. Or, at least, it can.

But do you know how hard it is to get people to care about this stuff the way you do? Like, lots of people complain about work, fine, but from a detached, passive place. So many people, even in very senior roles, can see this stuff happening in their company — even their own team — and meh their way past it. But you actually care. You are engaged and invested in the outcome, and frustrated that it isn’t happening as quickly or smoothly or completely as it could be. Do you see how important that is?

You can see the gap between where we are, and how good we could be, if we could just get out of our own way. And that thing is not getting better on its own. And bringing it up in 1:1s hasn’t made the change happen, either. So either you’re wrong, and someone needs to pull you aside and explain why so you can let it go. Or you’re right, and that feeling is a signal somebody is going to have to do something with.

We call that a leadership gap.

We’re not saying it’s your obligation — not exactly. Everyone has to figure out how much they’re willing to give to work, and if you’re past your limit we can respect that. But if you have an insight that can make work better for all of us. If you can unblock internal things that are keeping us from doing our best work? If you can help steer us towards external opportunities to do better work? Shit that you can see and the rest of us can’t?

It’s killing us to see you sideline yourself when that happens. Okay so you tried leadership once and didn’t like it. Or maybe you’ve never tried it but the leaders in your life have been a big disappointment and you don’t want to follow in their footsteps. Maybe someone told you you aren’t ready. Maybe the idea of stepping fully into leadership threatens your sense of independence, or your sense of identity, or your sense of staying close to the craft. And maybe, no offense, you’re scared. That’s the healthiest of them all — it’s a scary job — though it’s a bad reason to never try.

The people in power right now are the ones who said yes. Some of them probably jockeyed for it and lust after that power, but most of them said yes because someone had to. Either way, they’re just people. But now they’re there, and you’re here, and even if we assume they’re doing their absolute best, they’re still missing stuff that you can see.

Somebody has to do it, and all the alternatives are worse.

— Melissa & Johnathan