The Subtle Art of Quitting & Moving On
Quitting a job can be scary — here’s what I found out in the process
The problem
Some time ago, while exercising in a gym, I was listening to a podcast (note how skillfully I included a proud fact that I go to the gym in a sentence that perhaps did not require that much detail). Anyways, that night the episode I listened to covered one of the most ridiculous jobs in the world: a job of professional work quitters. No, they don’t quit work themselves; instead, they help other people — people who are literally too shy or scared — tell their managers/directors/bosses that they want to move on.
Indeed, a few companies report such a problem: some employees are so scared to come clean face-to-face that they opt to just not show up at work one day — or make their friends answer worried calls from HR and pretend something terrible happened to the person in question.
Sounds too much? Because it is, yet it’s true.
And to be honest, I can totally see how this can be the case under certain circumstances — for instance, in places with patriarchal business organisations where tenure and loyalty mean much more than performance and targets. In Japan, it is quite usual for a company to be fully “responsible” for their employees, growing them internally and providing a sense of security and certainty (what is known as paternalistic culture). In such case, job-hopping just isn’t a thing.
But then there is a Western approach of doing things. At least among the people I know and the companies they work for, changing jobs once in a while is the most natural thing in the world.
At every alumni gathering or informal catch-up, the second thing you get asked after “What do you do now” is “So, what do you plan to do next?” Telling these people you are staying at a job you no longer like because you don’t want to let your company down would probably provoke an awkward smile of misunderstanding, at the very least.
My experience
But why am I saying all that? Well, I just quit my job for a new one. I have been working there for a year and a half — not too long, but also not too little (in consulting terms, for sure). And trust me, I quite enjoyed it — yet decided to change anyway, for personal reasons and preferences. And yes, I was scared to tell.
Deep inside, I felt it was a betrayal — they invested so much in me, and how can I smile and joke around with partners today knowing I will be leaving all of them the next day? What about all those hopes they put on me, staffing plans they made, internal expertise they shared? They even sponsored my work visa — which is a very big thing, trust me.
I put the conversation off one day, and the next one, and even the next, finding this or that excuse, — until I could no longer postpone if I wanted to squeeze in my notice period and some travel before the new start.
So I told my manager, and then a partner, and then another partner. And you know what? They were….f-i-n-e. No, they didn’t tap me on my shoulder and exclaimed “At last!”, but they understood. And it was ok that only the day before we spent half an hour installing a new system on my laptop for future use, and that someone else would need to learn to do that model. They understood, because they, too, know how today people more and more value personal development and how everyone, everyone, has his individual path.
If anything, this is a good thing — because it forces firms to become better places to work, and think how to make their employees’ work life more sustainable. Because then those who stay are the ones who want to, and being a company of conscious choice doesn’t sound too bad, does it. Besides, more and more firms realise today the value of alumni networks: people that leave don’t move to another planet, they usually go on to become professionals or simply interesting people great to stay in touch with. This means a good company never loses its people — only expands its reach.
So what?
Anyways, what all this story leads to is a simple suggestion: take a turn that feels right if it feels right to you — don’t let your perception of how others might react diverge you.
Even if your boss is unhappy, or angry — he will soon forget and move on, because that’s what his company needs to move forward.
And that’s exactly what you need to be focusing on — moving forward, yourself.
