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Dismantling The Career Ladder

Family? Job? Why not both? A TNF CAREER BUMPER ISSUE
KEVIN MAGUIRE
MAR 9

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The New Fatherhood is an open and honest conversation about modern

fatherhood, with a bunch of dads figuring it out as we go. Here's a bit more
information if you're new here. You are one of the 9,227 dads ( ) signed
up. If you've been forwarded this by someone else, why not get your own?
 Illustration by Tony Johnson

Our weekly open threads have become a core thread of the collective TNF
fabric. Sitting atop the initial Notion page of what eventually became this
newsletter I wrote:

“The New Fatherhood isn’t all about me. It’s every dad out there who is
pushing fatherhood forward, whether intentionally or not; but who
keeps putting the effort in, knowing we’ll only be able to get this big
rock moving by striking it together.”

This place is at its best when we bring our communal brainpower to the
surface. Last week saw a dad reach out wanting advice on changing careers
when “every decision feels like it carries a lot more weight now, and it's easy
to get stuck in a comfortable groove knowing your (current) needs are
covered.”

Friday’s open thread provided a chance to harness our collective wisdom,

and you didn’t disappoint. I went back over the clickthrough stats, which
showed around 1% of you saw the 30 or so dads who offered their
perspective. This week, I wanted to bring the best ones back for a wider
audience.

Over to you, dads.

As a new dad (when my son was one), I thought that the best way to
show my love for my kid, and the general future of humanity was to do
the most adventurous, meaningful thing I could imagine. I applied to be
an astronaut.

Weeks earlier, I’d also quit drinking, and maybe I was just whiplashing
from feeling lame being sober. Either way, now I think I’m glad (and not
too surprised) that I wasn’t selected as an astronaut.

There’s only so much showing from a distance that can be felt as love.
Risking my life, rocketing away from my kids and everyone else, getting
an adrenaline rush as I do it, going places no one’s been, paving the
way for the endless future of humanity—it’s entirely possible that my
kids would have no idea how much I loved them if that’s how I showed
them. Let alone everyone else. Actions all speak, but they’re easier to
hear face to face.

Commercial fishing will have to suffice, leaving my kids for a couple of

months at a time instead of years. Bringing them with me when I feel
like it, not when they’re old enough to navigate a government web form.
Watching their lives expand day after day instead of pushing the
expansion of life in general. And I know parenting is harder than fishing.
Probably harder than flying a rocket too.

— Jake

In the first week of '22, I and about 20% of the company got laid off. My
wife was 31 weeks pregnant at the time. Between a salary freeze that
arbitrarily applied to me but not peers in 2008, a hell boss, a previous
layoff, and the blood-sweat-and-tears startup laying me off in the 3rd
trimester, my conversion to millennial cynic was complete. These guys
and gals care about your labor but not your well-being. Ya gotta watch
out for yourself, and yours. #radicalized

I sprang into action. I had been laid off before, and I hauled ass over the
next 5 weeks, and got a job offer the day my wife went into labor a few
weeks early. My final negotiated offer was accepted after she got the
epidural administered but before the kiddo came. (I felt like I should try
to stay "in the room" more but she said "it's gonna be a while, you're
doing great babe , go ahead and negotiate")

I had about 5 weeks of unemployment, 6 weeks of Washington State

Paid Family Leave (which was about the same as a paid leave
experience, but publically funded at an unemployment like level) and
then I started the new gig with a 6-week-old. The new job pays 20%
more than the startup and is in an area I'm interested in.

I will say sometimes a career change happens TO you, and it's not a
chosen move so much as playing the hand you're dealt, prospects,
network, and economy. And I don't love being laid off. But both times,
the experience kind of shaped me, focused me, and I came out of a new
gig doing better professionally (and WAY better life-wise) than I had
done before.

For anyone dealing w a layoff right now, my tips are 1) file for
unemployment right away, even if you accepted a lump sum severance
payment you're eligible and you should, 2) join a gym or get regular
exercise while you look for work, and 3) don't be so 'cute' about only
applying places where you have an in, that your overall volume goes
down. Volume, volume, volume. It's almost like a marketing or sales
funnel. If you are targeting a lot of relevant openings, have a decently
HQ resume, and can learn over time how to interview better, you will
make it happen.

— Peter

At some point last year when I was going through a horrific work
experience—and was ready to quit and find a new job—I asked the dads
here for some advice. One dad just suggested to chill a bit, focus on
your kid, there will be time to be more career focused. I took it all in, and
I'm so glad I did.
I think if you're lucky enough to have some flexibility in a job and
enough of a household income to manage the tough times at the
moment, I don't think there's anything better you can ask for. I kind of
knew that we would be poorer as a result of having a kid—childcare
costs, just additional costs everywhere else—but apart from saying
goodbye to some pre-kid luxuries (I do miss having random cocktails
with mates, but whatever) I think its been ok.

Now my daughter is 2 years, I feel like I'm starting to get my brain back.
Sleep is becoming normal (until the next milestone/holiday event/
developmental stage!) and I feel like I'm able to imagine for the future
again beyond simply trying to survive with a newborn. My biggest
pivotal career move so far has NOT to take one. To just stay in place, try
and keep things interesting for myself, but in a way just enjoy the ride
and get off the relentless career train for a bit and enjoy the scenery
with my daughter.

— Ivor

A little over a year ago I gave up tenure and full rank at a private liberal
arts college, so we could move close to my wife's family. I would not
have been able to do that if the pandemic had not wrought economic
havoc on the college, which worsened toxic elements that I'd already
been complaining about for at least five years. So I can't claim any
moral high ground really -- I was losing faith in a future in higher
education, and my wife's online business rendered my income
unnecessary. So instead of providing financially, the biggest gift I could
give to my family was to resign. It's been great for my kids and for my
wife, but it's taken a little over a year for me to feel like I understand my
new role or that I fully believe it's been good for me. This spring, I'm
beginning to feel truly hopeful for the first time since we moved.

— Joshua

In 2018 my dad was diagnosed with Alzheimers, my parents lived with

us for 12 weeks over a hot summer, as they had to now move to a more
suitable property in a well-connected area. My mental health nose-
dived not long after, with existential dread, fear, paranoia. A glimmering
diamond in the turd was that I took it all as a red flag, to really start to
appreciate and value the little everyday qualities of my life and not
devalue how fucking beautiful it is to grow a human and create a life
with them, and how terrifyingly short this sprint across the galaxy this
life is. I stopped being so god damn complacent and entitled.

Covid landed on us and removed all connection to our families and my

dad passed away in the shitty lockdown numbers 2 and 3. No great
commemoration or celebration of life. Just a limp empty void to the end
of someones life. I'm still not over the experience of being in the war
zone of caring for an alzheimer's patient and then having nothing to
show for it at the end.

It sent me into a spiral and now two years later I find myself blinking into
a post apocalyptic world with more purpose and desire than I have ever
had before. I am studying counselling, forest school leadership and we
are home educating our son.
The vivid 3 dimensional life we now have before us, because of all of
these experiences. I love and appreciate every day more, I love my son
and my wife more, I value every essence of the simple joys of being with
each other, just by sharing breakfast, or a dance in the kitchen or
reading stories before bed. None of this is glamorous, well paid or
highly valued status. But its all ours. So we now make decisions based
on how much we can be together, how much we can devour this life and
not be at the mercy of it. Finances will always have to be monitored, we
may never be economically 'rich' but we will always prioritise our time
together.

— Pete

I had already started to explore a career shift before I became a father; I

had spent a year getting trained and certified as a coach, and had
started a coaching business on the side during the pregnancy. But
actually quitting to become self-employed was really hard. I had all
these voices in my head telling me it was irresponsible, I was a provider
for my family now, how could I walk away from that salary and prestige,
etc.

A few things helped:

1. I shared those doubts with my wife. She said "Of course you
should quit your job and go into coaching". I was shocked - I
thought that she, pregnant with our first child, would want the
security and safety of a full-time job. But she said "I see you. On
the days you just do your job, you are stressed and exhausted and
 kind of miserable. On the days you do even one coaching session,
you are full of life and excited. That's the man I want to be with."

2. My wife is an engineer at Apple, so we would still have an income

and health insurance.

3. After I came back from paternity leave, I was still hesitating, and
my coach at the time asked me "So is this what you want to model
for your son? To stay in a job you don't want to be at and sacrifice
your own happiness just for the money?" That hit home, being the
role model for my kid.

— Eric

Took it upon myself earlier this year to move from working as a teacher
in public school to the world of private school. Public education is a
disaster area here in California, and 8+ years of working within the
system saw no improvement from where I was standing. Decided to
jump at an opportunity at a private. Downsides: lack of flexibility with
my content planning AND took at 33% cut in my pay. Positives: my
commute is way shorter and the school I now work at actually reflects
my beliefs and values.

I have only been working at my new place for a couple of months now,
but I have loved every moment so far, and the positives far outweigh the
negatives. Yeah, we’ve had to make adjustments in lifestyle, but those
adjustments have resulted in spending more quality time with my wife
and three kids (6, 4, and 1). No regrets whatsoever.
— Hunter

6 months after my first was born I moved to a job that was mentally
easier but a further commute and higher in-person expectations. I was
there a year before I moved to a higher-paying job. I was one of two
parents on the team at the higher paying job and was poorly supported
for things like doctor visits and sick kid days. 6 months before my
second was born I took a small pay cut and moved to a fully remote job
where 80-90% of people are parents. I have never felt more supported.

Being fully remote I’ve been around for so much more of the first-year
stuff than I was when I was commuting 2 hours a day with my first son.
With the second kid, I made a conscious decision to put kids ahead of
work, and I’m doing better work in less time.

— Joseph
 Illustration by Tony Johnson

Down with the ladder

Big decisions were less fraught before kids, when your salary could happily
be frittered away on [vinyl records | collectable figures | expensive jackets |
limited-edition sneakers | lavish vacations].¹ As is clear from the stories
above, there’s no single well-trodden path we can all follow, and what works
for one dad won’t necessarily work for you. It’s like choosing where to live:
the decision comes down to what you’re optimising for, and what quality of
life means to you.

"Quality of life" is subjective: what's important for you might not be

important for me. What you prioritise is dependent on many factors.
Some of it will be baked into your programming from your childhood:
what did your parents do? How much did they work? What was going
on in the world at that time? Did you live in one place? Did you move
around a lot? Your experiences in these early years will drive the type of
life you're looking for now: you might prioritise security and safety if it
 was something lacking in your own childhood, or you might want
escape and adventure if it was something you always dreamed of as a
kid.

— How to Choose Where to Live

Your definition can be driven by many factors. It could be baked in,

unconsciously guiding your decisions. It might be driven by what you've
learned as you've grown older: books you've read, conversations you’ve
had with friends, and different perspectives seen on the career path of
others. It might even come from a newsletter like this one.

What quality of life means for you, and what it means to me, are almost
certainly not the same. There is overlap, of course. You’ll hopefully share
many of the same priorities as your partner, and you'll find yourself
gravitating towards friends with a roughly similar set—it's inevitable as we
settle into tribes who share the same beliefs and guiding principles as we
do. But I’ll have criteria you don’t care about, and vice versa. And that's OK!

What’s important isn’t what other people prioritise. But it’s that you’re
intentional about your own goals, and are working towards the right thing.
We were raised to see career progression through the metaphor of a ladder
—something to be scaled, an ascent taken with decisiveness. But where
does a ladder lead? Most times you’re climbing to fix something, or to
provide illumination in the dark, before you dismount upon a swift
completion. When was the last time you got off the ladder at the top? What
happens if you change your mind halfway up? I’m not sure the ladder works
anymore. Making sense of your career feels more like a maze: there’s one
way out, but maybe more; the way ahead is unclear and filled with dead
ends; and even whilst expending maximum effort it can feel like you’re
going back on yourself.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about it differently. About the idea of a career filled
with stepping stones. Going into it knowing it’s nigh-on impossible to know
the entire path ahead, so you can only plan the next step, at best. Some
stones offer a steady place to gain sure footing, take a breath, and get your
bearings. Others feel more precarious, where slipping into the water seems
certain, but the only way to know for sure is to step onto it, with caution. It
doesn’t help anyone to rush across at full pelt—that’ll only make things
more treacherous. But each step forward highlights potential new options,
routes that make themselves known only when you’re on the preceding
stone, and the final path you take might only make sense when you’ve
reached the other side. The complete opposite of a career ladder, really.

In a career of stepping stones, there's only one thing you can do: make the
next right step. To take decisions that align with your goals and values².
Imagine you were gifted the ability to communicate through time, and could
talk to your older—and God-willing wiser—self: what would he tell you to do
at this point?

Trust your intuition. And step on.

3 (career-focused) things to read this week

1. “The Right Way to Make a Big Career Transition” by Utkarsh
Amitabh in Harvard Business Review. New career on the brain?
Here’s a very TNF-style essay, with a personal story intertwined with
actionable tips that can help you make potentially life-changing
 decisions, and focus on what’s important to you. “Pro tip: Write your
future autobiography. Before leaving Microsoft, I actually sat down and
wrote a sort-of autobiography. I reflected on what the most defining
events along the way would be. I was intentional about describing (in
great detail) what I wanted to be remembered for and the way I spent
my time. Conducting this thought experiment gave me more clarity on
what mattered most to me and why. This doesn’t need to be 100 pages
long, but it does need to give you an idea of what you want your
journey to be.”

2. “How to Make Smart Decisions Without Getting Lucky” by Shane

Parrish in Farnham Street. A one-stop shop of decision-making
principles that are “both practical and time tested,” from the ever-
excellent Shane Parrish. There’s something here for everyone, whether
your decision is about changing careers, moving cities, having a
second child, or just what to make for dinner this evening. “If you’re
like most people, you’ve never been explicitly taught how to make
effective decisions. You make decisions like a golfer who never took
any lessons: miserable with the state of your game and yet not seeking
to learn a better swing, and instead hoping for the best every time you
lift the club. Hoping that this time your choice will finally work out.”

3. “How to Make Tough Career Decisions” by Benjamin Todd in

80,000 Hours. A nine-step framework that will hold your hand
towards making the right choice—even if that right choice is staying
where you are. 80,000 Hours are a non-profit focused on helping
people “switch into careers that effectively tackle the world’s most
pressing problems.” This framework is evidence-based, and chock full
of links that can guide your ship safely to the right port. Bonus points
for this excellent example of why pro and con lists don’t really work:
Good Dadvice

Thomas
@len0killer

Been smiling thinking about a chimp getting home from a

long day of work. Kisses the wife, hugs the kids. Cracks
open that first banana and it makes a beer noise
12:16 AM ∙ Feb 27, 2023

26,998 Likes 2,177 Retweets

Joe Martin
@joeDmarti
 At least 50 percent of my job as a Dad is just holding rocks
anytime we go somewhere.
2:13 AM ∙ Mar 1, 2023

346 Likes 10 Retweets

ryan j
@ryannoyance

hey sorry i'm late to the meeting. society is crumbling and

my body is failing me. anyway let's talk KPIs
6:05 PM ∙ Jul 12, 2022

51,876 Likes 7,301 Retweets

Dads: Let’s Push Things Forward

This weekend our Geneva community saw a more in-depth discussion on
the tensions between careers and kids. We also discussed the joy of
refinding spontaneity after the newborn stage, the mental health benefits of
regular exercise, and how folks have been finding our initial dad’s circles
(the third of which took place this week).

I’ve also been on a Channely McChannelson vibe, adding new places for
different topics, including a career and work channel (inspired by this
week’s newsletter) alongside channels for dads who graduated into the
Fatherhood Class of 2023, 2022 and 2021, a place where you can share
horror stories and seek guidance from dads who are roughly around the
same stage as you.

There are also some new local dad channels. We’ve already got a London
one (which is now 30+ dads strong) and am working on connecting dads in
Barcelona, Boston, and a few other big US cities. I have this far-fetched
dream of local TNF chapters wherever “dads with feelings” congregate.
Now we’re hitting a fair number of paid subscribers, those karmic collisions
are starting to become more regular.

Become a paid subscriber today and support what we’re building here. Your
kids will thank you for it. And your old, wise self too.

Click to Find Hot Dads in Your Area

Hey! Listen to this!

#561: Rich Roll — Reinventing Your Life at 30, 40, and

Beyond
Tim Ferriss: Bestselling Author, Human Guinea Pig
Episode

After listening to his interview with Rick Rubin, I’ve been diving into the Rich
Roll archives on the school run. This guest spot on Tim Ferris’ podcast was
a fascinating look at reinventing yourself at every decade marker, and
shared some interesting contours of my own journey. (Minus the five
ironman-distance triathlons in Hawaii in a week, obviously.)

Signing off with a career update of my own

Well. I’ve been umming and aahing about when to put this into the
newsletter. But a career special issue feels as good a day as any. So here
goes.

Last summer I spent a few weeks wondering about what the next stepping
stone was for me. I was talking to close friends about my own values, how
much joy and sense of purpose I was getting out of this newsletter, the
conversations I’ve been having with dads, and what it might all add up to. I’d
been reflecting on my own journey—my chance encounter with a
professional coach in the kitchen of a house party and the journey we went
on together; leading to a separating of my sense of identity from my job,
moving to Barcelona, starting TNF, and a fundamental reconstruction of
what success means to me.

When I look back on the Kevin of 2016, I wasn’t searching for a coach. I
didn’t really know what one did. But those 12 weeks working with Jim
shifted something inside me, in a fundamental way, that allowed me to move
forward, unburdened from previously invisible shackles holding me back.
I’ve ended up naturally talking to lots of dads in my life, guiding them
through life-changing transitions, and learning a lot in the process. So last
summer I decided to do this for real. I began my training to become a career
coach, and am now working with my first batch of clients. It’s already
proving to be some of the most rewarding work I’ve ever done. My initial
focus is working with dads trying to juggle integrate different aspects of
their life together—in a way that mums have been struggling with for
decades, and dads are just beginning to grasp the details of—and folks who
aren’t ready to sacrifice essential slices of their life to climb the corporate
career ladder.

Anyhow. Consider this what they call a “soft launch.” If any of this
resonates, and you feel like you’re ready to figure out what the next step
might be, take a gander at this site—built with my own two hands; thank
you, three years of Computer Science at Manchester University—and let’s
talk.

Awkward self-promotion muscle: you can relax now. Remember to ungrit

teeth upon descent.

Say Hello
How did you like this week’s issue? Your feedback helps me make this
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Branding by Selman Design. Illustration by Tony Johnson. Survey by Sprig.

Thanks to all the dads who contributed to the thread this time, and every
time. Follow The New Fatherhood on Twitter and Instagram. Send me links,
comments, questions, and feedback. Or just reply to this email. Congrats to
Paul Millerd who became a new dad this week! Welcome to the club, Paul.
And full marks to anyone who caught the subtitle easter egg this week.
1 Delete as appropriate. Or don’t delete anything, if this particular mix of
money holes perfectly sum up why you were broke for most of your
adult life.

2 Don’t know what your values are? This doesn’t seem like a terrible
place to start.

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© 2023 Kevin Maguire

Eixample, Barcelona, 08037
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