On Golden Handcuffs and Knowing What's Really Important
Monday, August 12, 2019
"I just wanted to let you know that I've taken another offer, and I'll be starting next week," I
told him.
"Why are you leaving?" he asked matter-of-factly.
"My new job pays about twenty grand more, and I really don't like all of this out-of-state travel."
He leaned back and looked up at the ceiling, almost as if in-thought, for what had to have been at least
ten seconds. He then looked back at me, stood up, extended his hand, and said, "Congratulations, best
of luck to you."
"No counter offer?" I asked. (In truth, I wouldn't have accepted one, but I'd figured one were
customary).
"No," he said, "if this were just about money, we could have talked about it. But since you're
unhappy for other reasons, we're not going to counter. We'd just be paying you more to continue being
unhappy here."
And that was that. As simple as that comment was, it's stuck with me forever.
Fast forward again many years. I found myself in a new role – one with no requirements,
virtually no direction, too few resources and too much work. I knew early on that this wasn't
a role I'd be happy with as-is, and I was very transparent about this. For the success of the project,
some things needed to change, in my opinion. I advocated moving to the cloud for a number of
reasons; these were shot down. I advocated going Agile (or at least some form of it) – having
daily stand-ups, a formal product owner, etc. After four days of being Agile, management
put an end to it. It was "taking too much of everyone's time".
I knew at that point that this wasn't the role for me – and I continued to remain very transparent.
I let management know my position, and they responded... by giving me more money. Ignoring the
lesson learned many years prior about working unhappy, I relented. I figured I'd try to make the
best of things. (For what it's worth, the CEO of one company I'd worked at prior was known for saying, "every problem is
an opportunity for improvement", and that had stuck with me, too).
Suffice it to say, things were not improving in this case, and I was still unhappy. I
continued to be given hearty raises and bonuses, and while I'd like to think they were for my
stellar performance, I'm more inclined to think they were simply to keep me around. At one
point, I'd grown so frustrated that I even requested more money to continue to working in an
environment that was making me miserable, and amazingly, I was given what I asked for.
Ultimately, in what was really a "better late than never" moment, I'd decided that no amount
of compensation was worth a job that could ultimately stymie my professional growth were I to
stay. I moved on to a new role – for less money but far more technical challenge and
room for professional growth. The pay was lower, the hours were longer, the work was harder, and I
was much happier.
When to change jobs (and why) are personal decisions that individuals
must answer for themselves based on their specific situation. My only advice is this:
if you're a developer who has a real passion
for writing software and you're stuck in a job that you dislike (or maybe even hate?)
because you're being paid well, consider whether the money you're making is worth the
personal happiness you're sacrificing now – and the professional growth that you may be sacrificing later.
To paraphrase my old boss: being paid more just to stick around and be unhappy at work benefits no one.
|
||||