A question of priorities
There is a lot going on at the moment.
The cost of living crisis is forcing everyone but the very richest in our society to review their budgets and make very real and very difficult decisions as we approach winter. Wars across the world are contributing not only to our rising energy bills, but to dire humanitarian refugee crises. Industrial action is spreading across the country as record levels inflation eats into everyone’s disposable income. Martin Lewis doing all he can to beg the next Prime Minister to put this at the top of their to-do list.
Narrowing the focus, the working world seems to be split. Either obsessed with how to get people back into the office, or manage the Great Resignation, (also known as the Great Reshuffle or the Big Quit), and the poorly-named phenomenon known as “quiet quitting”, both of which are really just different examples of people putting up their boundaries and taking back control of their experience of work. They’re deciding what matters to them and being more intentional in their responses when companies fail to meet them.
For me personally, I have been stressed by all of that, as well as a few little things, that to anyone else, would probably feel inconsequential in comparison. I am absolutely feeling the fear of the cost of living (while being very aware that I am personally in a very privileged position and can only empathise with those experiencing the worst of it). After 12 years at Deloitte, I am joining the number of those in the Great Resignation myself, and I am feeling all of the emotions. From sadness at leaving a company that has played the largest part in my career, and will still hold a huge place in my heart, to an excitement for my new adventure and an anxiety for the work that I need to do. And, what should have been least of all, I was worried about making sure I get this article out this month. I was hugely concerned about getting it out at “the right time”, and making it funny, yet impactful. I even started a draft that was linked paragraph by paragraph to different Hamilton quotes (and I might still do something with it someday, just wait for it…) And I only had a little bit of time to do it in. Between my last day at Deloitte and my first day at Wayve, I only had two weeks to solve all of my woes and my stresses. I was worried about whether I was doing enough. Comparing myself to others who were more consistent, more prominent, more MORE.
And then I just decided to stop.
For the first time since I left school, I had a moment of proper rest. No emails to come back to. No out of office promising a reply when I’m back. Just a real and true opportunity to stop.
And that’s exactly what I did. Over the last week and a half I have gone to the beach, I have played football, I got a tattoo, I have seen my son take his first steps, I have been able to cook, and spend time with my extended family and I am so glad for it. Because I nearly didn’t. I remember talking to my wife about how I needed to use the two weeks to start planning my first few weeks at Wayve, the prep I wanted to do to make sure I hit the ground running. Even though, that’s all I’ve been doing for the last 12 years of my working life: running.
As a leader, I have been taught that there is an inevitable, inescapable burden of expectation on me. To lead teams, to grow a business, to have a plan. It should obviously be flexible, but I have to have an idea to bring to the table when the time comes. And that requires mental pace and stamina. It requires a lot of running. At Deloitte, I would jump from a conversation about Black History Month, to planning a Leadership Team meeting, to reviewing the plans for a team nature retreat, my mind having to move at a mile a minute to keep up with all the things I was involved in, constantly running. Even on holiday, I would be thinking about what I would be coming back to. Maybe not intentionally, but there’d be something that would remind me of the work that still needed to be done. I was still running, not as quickly, but there wasn’t ever really a moment to stop. Year on year, across every promotion cycle, every project, running. Because that’s what I was always taught.
Which is why I have been so encouraged by the messages across LinkedIn recently. People across the industries, of different levels of seniority reminding each other to take that break. To step off of the treadmill and stop. To give themselves that opportunity to recharge, and most importantly, these people are leading by example. LinkedIn is being flooded with smiling faces, and sunny coasts, and an abundance of other summer holiday pictures. No longer glamourising the hustle, but encouraging people to slow down, and stop running.
But why is that important? Or to use the correct LinkedIn terminology, “why is this on LinkedIn?” It’s important because it comes back to what I said at the start! There is a lot going on at the moment. Our people are looking to reprioritise and find their balance. Not just between “work” and “life”, but overall. What does success look like for them? Instead of running at unsustainable speeds consistently until they inevitably burn out, they’re looking to set their own pace. To find the companies whose cultures not only make space for it, but encourage it. Of course it’s not all about summer holiday pictures, but social media is really all about snapshots of the reality you want to portray. And in a market where people are looking to move, sometimes the first step is just to catch their eye.
But you have to look beyond that initial snapshot. If you draw people in with a promise of a culture, it needs to match what the experience actually is when they arrive. It’s why DEI can no longer be an afterthought. It’s why we need to embed inclusion into the core business strategy. Because the culture of work is now a primary motivator of the best talent. Looking not just at what lovely holiday pictures we’re able to take, but what the journey looks and feels like. Is it a non-stop sprint or are our people actually able to enjoy the experience. Can they see how the goals of your business align with their own personal ambitions? Can you build trust and respect into the very fabric of your business culture? These questions are by no means easy to answer, and they’re not necessarily quick fixes, but they’re answerable, and the ambitions are achievable…it’s just a question of priorities.