johnmaconline

It seems there is a pretend work trend in China.

“Many citizens who don’t want to explain their employment status pay to rent a position in a fake office, with some even assigning fictitious tasks and organizing supervisory rounds.”

Why? 

Because work is meaningful. For some, it’s identity. For others, it’s purpose. And others, it’s just what needs to be done. 

Work, by the way, doesn’t need to be “professional.” It’s application. Utility. Creativity. Expense of energy for some purpose. 

But in any case, it’s meaningful. 

Having “work” to do — or appearing to — communicates value. We want to feel valuable. 

We can talk about systems, institutions, and governments and how each of these has contributed to and sustains “where we are in human history,” but none of these exist without basic human ambition. 

The Smart People don’t give enough credit to the human spirit. To ambition. 

Humans want to matter. They want to contribute, to be seen, to be relevant. They want to work. 

Not everyone. But enough. 

The danger isn’t fake work. It’s systems that don’t make space for human ambition. It’s when bureaucracy, risk-aversion, and status produce work that feels just as fake but pays better.

Is our system perfect? Heck, no.

The good news is that if we continue to work on the systems, we can build work that matters. Work that welcomes people. Work that sees potential and encourages contribution. 

Because the future of work isn’t pretend.

The human spirit is too ambitious. 

A great way to think about and socialize your unique advantage is a differentiation grid.

It looks like this:

What are the axes on which you (or your product, your service) look the best?
Who are your competitors?
Where are they on the grid?

Find your axes. Find your magic.

When I was a young engineer working on the products that our company made and sold, I was quite naive. 

Actually, I was worse than naive. I was insular and egocentric. Basically, I thought that engineering was the most important function of the company. Engineering was the purpose of the company. 

Sales? Can’t sell something that doesn’t exist.
Marketing? Can’t market something that doesn’t exist.
Accounting? Can’t create P&L statements if there’s nothing that brings in P.

Yeah, I’m not proud of my thought process at the time.

I missed the fact that we were all pieces in the system. All important. None functions without the other. It’s a symphony, not a solo performer.  

You can’t sell or market something that doesn’t (or won’t) exist, but also, you don’t have a business (or a job or a purpose) without marketing and selling what you make. You also won’t be in business if you can’t understand your finances, keep them in order, and make decisions based on them.  

So here’s a better approach: 

When you walk into the room, assume everybody is important, and ask yourself, “What does the system need from me?”

That’s the shift from solo performer to symphony.

It’s easy to do, and it’s easy to buy in when others do it for us.

“You deserve this.”
“You’re doing a great job.”
“It’s not your fault.”

To be clear, these may be true, but what if they’re just comfort in disguise?

Are you snowing yourself?

Attention is a currency.

You spend it, and others are trying to extract it.

We talk about, write about, and argue about how we spend our other resources. We made up the term ROI (return on investment) to measure it.

“What’s your ROI?”

How are you spending your attention? Are you investing it? Wasting it?

“What’s your ROA?”

Where you spend your attention shapes what you produce, how you feel, and who you become.

Attention, like time, is one currency you can’t earn back.

A friend of mine recently said that when we were commiserating about useless meetings in our businesses.

In the industrial work paradigm, you clocked in, moved parts down the line, and then clocked out. Today, we do the same thing, except the parts are useless meetings, and the line is our calendar.

We replaced the factory with the meeting room.

We gather six people with the right titles for an hour to address a $100 problem.

The repetition feels safe. Familiar. Productive-ish. The hierarchy is satisfied.

Useful work — the kind that solves $100k and $100M problems — often takes place with a collaborator or collaborators. In assertion. In tension. In collective energy. In conversation.

Wait, aren’t meetings the problem?

Meetings, yes. Conversations, no.

If you’re a leader, encourage the conversations. Give them room to exist and breathe. Give them tools and the power and responsibility to use them.

Skip the meetings.

You’ve lost momentum.

To get back at it, you don’t have to start with inspiration, intensity, or the answer to whatever stopped you.

It’s simply motion. Not everything or even the most important thing. Start with the next thing. One foot in front of the other.

Now you’re back at it.