I must have looked confused because he quickly added, "I don't mean literally." Though I still wonder sometimes... What he meant was simpler and more powerful: start doing the job before you have the title. Take on more responsibility before you're officially given it. This advice has stuck with me through years of career growth, and later when I became a manager myself, I saw exactly why it works.
"It just felt like falling off a cliff," Graham, now the founder of Glue Club, said in a recent interview on Lenny Rachitsky's podcast. "Taking risks, accepting the terrible fall and that experience of falling has been more than worth it." Graham described the experience as part of what she calls the "J-curve" - a career trajectory where a risky move leads to an initial drop before eventually producing outsized gains. Visually, she describes it as standing on a ledge, stepping off, sinking briefly, and then rising far higher than where you started - just like the shape of the letter J.
I moved to the US from India in August 2021 to pursue a master's degree in computer science at the University of Southern California. Soon after, I began looking for a summer internship - but things didn't go as planned. Like many aspiring software engineers, I was excited about the idea of working at a Big Tech company like Google, Apple, Microsoft, Meta, or Netflix.
When I talk with business leaders about Gen Z, the same frustration often bubbles up: "They won't stay." It's said with a kind of bewildered shrug, as if the younger generation has suddenly rewritten the rules out of thin air. I heard it again last week during a radio segment I did about generational dynamics at work. The host asked why Gen Z feels so comfortable moving on so quickly.
Most of my weekday mornings follow the same script. I pull into the drop-off line outside of my twins' elementary school, double-check their backpacks and take a sip of my coffee from my bright pink Yeti cup before it cools. But on a rainy November morning, sitting in the slow-moving line of cars, I found myself deep in thought. Before the doors opened, my twins, 6, reached for my hand, so we could do our quick handshake
A safe anchor point for many senior engineers has always been technical mastery. You see a problem. You design some architecture. You work in a team to crank out some code. You build a complicated system, roll it out at scale, rinse and repeat. This is a happy place for many engineers. Naturally, you think in order to progress, the journey should in theory look something like this. You expect to be rewarded as you take on more technically challenging problems, climbing the ladder.
Learning how to fail: intentionally, reflectively, and repeatedly, can build the resilience and insight that long-term careers truly depend on. 👉 Read more. Slack: The Accidental Success Story (Synergy Startup) What began as a failed multiplayer game pivoted into one of the fastest-growing workplace tools: proof that a collapse in one project can spark something far bigger. 👉 Learn more.
Let's start with a story. Let me tell you about Alex. Alex is a staff engineer at a mid-sized tech company. They were promoted six months ago, after years of consistent delivery, mentoring teammates, and driving high impact projects. Alex has always been the go-to person from blocking gnarly tech problems. Leadership told them, you're exactly what we need at the staff level. At first, it felt great.
Workers feel demoralized due to lack of career growth and increasing pressure amid AI job transformations, leading to 'quiet cracking' and disengagement.
"While the one-third probability of getting picked in the lottery remains the same since I applied in 2017, the job market when I graduated felt better."
Pursuing a master's degree in finance technology, or fintech, engineering was one of the best decisions I've ever made. My degree allowed me to build on my technical knowledge and gain a deeper understanding of how emerging technologies are transforming financial systems.
