I had the opportunity to spend an afternoon last weekend with a group of young men, recently graduated or soon to be from San Diego State University. The topic was career planning and how to go about getting that first job after college. I and another alumnus served as living fossils from whom these newly minted adults could learn the archeology of a life’s work.
Several things struck me during our conversations. One was that I could not remember what it felt like to be in their shoes. I mean, I could remember what was going on in my life around that time, from 1970 to 1976, during which I left my high school town and traveled as far south as I could to go to school, ultimately graduating from State myself. But I couldn’t remember the state of mind that accompanied the events of my early twenties. So it was like talking to aliens. It’s official. I am now an Old Guy.
A second illumination was that these guys were really smart. Just because they did not have lots of decades of life experiences, it didn’t mean they were dumb. I think sometimes we look at youth and discount their ideas or opinions because they are not based on much personal experience. But physicists will tell you that significant theoretical advances almost always come from young people under the age of 30.
A third awakening was that they had not received any really practical advice on how to view their career or how to choose their path wisely. Most of the guidance counseling they received on the subject was delivered by people who typically had little experience in the “real” world of working in some kind of for-profit business.
As we explored the macro-economic influences of career planning, the subject of business cycles formed a central theme. There was some debate as to whether it was beneficial to begin one’s career at the upward slope of a cycle, at the peak, during the fall or at the bottom. It was an academic discussion, of course, since we can’t choose when we’re born and thus when we may launch our career. But the general consensus was that beginning at the bottom limit of the economic sine wave was probably preferable, when an entire career span is considered. Why? Because the character-building that occurs in difficult times cannot be duplicated during good times. It’s like making steel. Heat and pressure, with the right ingredients, creates a useful metal that is strong. If you take those same ingredients and subject them to cool temperatures and a light breeze, you get a pile of loose material that is only useful for filling the bottom of a shovel.
These young men were being affected by their place in the economic cycle. Their characters were already stronger than many I’ve seen in the halcyon era of 1995 through 2007. I remember an interview with a man of about 27, back in 2002, for example. Ted had been hired by a sizzling dot-com, laid off at the bust, and had an impression of his opportunities that did not match reality. During our interview he said to me, “I’m interested in any senior executive position in marketing that will allow me to express my talents in strategic positioning, branding and building market acceptance.” I explained that while his prior title was Vice President, his experience and knowledge appeared to be equivalent to a developing professional individual contributor. In other words, he knew the terms of art, but couldn’t produce what the terms represented. Ted was unfortunate in that he entered the workforce at a time when smart graduates who could string impressive sentences together earned $100,000 salaries and officer titles. He never recovered from his fall from the marble palace. Last I heard, Ted was a “dog whisperer” in New Mexico.
But recent graduates have the good fortune to face harsher challenges in establishing themselves in their careers. The hard-working young men who earned the right to participate in last Saturday’s workshop on career planning have already differentiated themselves from their competition, because lots of graduates haven’t yet awakened to the labor market conditions they find themselves in. Many were invited to the workshop. Literally hundreds. Only 20 responded. Of those, only seven completed the preparatory work to secure their reservation. Of the seven, only six showed up.
I would love to invest $10,000 in each of these six young men, in exchange for 3% of their lifetime earnings. I’d be incredibly wealthy. But they’re too smart to go for that deal. If you’d like to hire one of them, write to me at my e-address below. I won’t even charge a referral fee.