So, What Do You Do?

I try to avoid situations in which people ask me what I do for a living.

It’s not that I do anything particularly shameful, such as robbing banks or being a banker, it’s just that if I’m in a conversation where someone asks me what I do, it means at least one of four undesirable things have happened to get us there: (1) I am speaking with a herd animal trying to figure out where I fit in his personal pecking order, or (2) he lets his job define him and assumes I’ve done the same, or (3) he is trying to figure out how much life insurance he can sell me or, most commonly, (4) we have nothing of substance to discuss.

Lately I find myself having more and more of these conversations, probably because my wife’s and daughter’s social obligations require me to attend ever more meet-and-greets whose rules of superficial social engagement self-select for a disproportionately high number of people whose gambit while working the room is to feign interest in what you do for a living.

Most discussions along these lines elevate form over substance. Who do you work for? What is your title? Where is your place of business? Does Bob still work there? The point seems to be to maximize the proper nouns, minimize the understanding.

To shake things up a bit, I’ve starting telling people I’m a “problem solver.” Although I do have a title, and a box on an org chart, and, at least in theory, a job description, which are exactly the factoids these people crave, I’m withholding this meaningless information and simply telling people that I solve other people’s problems.

This has the benefit of being the truth: I actually do spend most of my time solving problems. It also has the benefit, I hope, of increasing the likelihood that I’ll meet someone at one of these functions who can teach me something. Solving other people’s problems is often a challenging and solitary job, so I’d appreciate the opportunity to pick the brains of someone else doing this sort of thing. It’s hard to find problem solvers — it’s not the sort of job people put onto an org charts, you never see a “VP of Solving Screw-Ups” — so to increase my chances of finding these people I have to get behind the titles and start talking function.

If I ever do find a fellow-traveler at one of these functions, here are a few of the problem solving occupational hazards I'd like to discuss:

Superiority complex: I often see people at their worst, doing things I’m sure I would never do, so it’s a constant struggle for me not to over-extrapolate what I see into thinking (a) everyone is an idiot and (b) except me. Neither is true, but it’s hard to see that when you spend all your time mired in the dark underbelly of underperformance. I try to stay humble, but I’m afraid someday I’ll have humility forced on me the hard way, by creating my own problem that someone else has to solve.

Decelerated learning: I learn more when I feel like everyone else knows more than me. Insecurity is a great motivator. Spend your time dealing with other people’s problems and you quickly lose that insecurity, as, alas, you discover that those around you aren’t supermen and women but all-too human people who make mistakes just like you. This realization might be psychologically healthy, but it’s a little too healthy for me. It makes me feel too secure. A few years ago I noticed that without my insecure edge I wasn’t learning as much as I once did, and ever since I’ve been trying to find people who’ll make me feel more insecure. It isn’t easy, what with all the problems I see, but I keep trying.

Grim reaper: While optimism is essential to human endeavor, pessimism seems to be the essential ingredient in problem solving. In the early stages of a problem, people are usually in denial, either out of defensiveness or an overabundance of optimism, so they fail to act quickly and decisively and end up letting the problem metastasize. I go in expecting the worst and often find that even I’ve underestimated the situation. All this gives you an overdeveloped sense of impending doom, one that ends up permeating everything you do, as you perceive fragility where others assume solidity. It’s a drag. It’s also, I fear, a particularly distorted lens through which to view the world.

The Bond Villain: A Reassessment

You have to respect the Bond villain.

Sure, he’s hell-bent on world domination, careless with the lives of millions, enjoys torture even more than Cheney, but think of the severe psychological afflictions he’s had to overcome, often with little or no outside support. With his historic level of megalomania, his massively outsized sense of entitlement, his complete lack of perspective, his issues with impulse control, that infantile fixation on revenge, it’s a wonder he gets anything done. And yet he does. In the biggest way. You have to give him credit for making the most of a tough hand.

And don’t get me started on the whole secret hideaway thing. I mean, do you have any idea how difficult it is to conduct large-scale real estate development free from the interference of neighbors, building inspectors, planning councils and construction unions? Can you imagine the logistical challenges of moving vast amounts of steel, concrete and other building supplies to a mountain top or an isolated tropical island? It’s hard enough to build a simple house these days of NIMBY BANANA, but our Bond villain, for all his faults, shows a remarkable facility for cutting through the red tape and construction delays and cost overruns and environmental impact reports to build efficient, often beautiful, hideaways in the most difficult construction environments imaginable.

In these hard times, we have to acknowledge that the Bond villain excels as a much-needed jobs creator, providing many high-skilled and presumably high-paying jobs in fields for which there isn’t always high demand. As anyone who’s employed anyone can attest, it is no small task to find and retain the right person, let alone an army of the right people. You can’t just post an ad on Craigslist for jumpsuit-clad machine-gun toting goons and expect them to show up ready for work. You have to work it, recruiting worldwide, competing against other employers seeking similar skills. Not an easy task, but one our Bond villain manages quite nicely, assembling a training a hoard of employees with the talent, dedication and high degree of discipline necessary to do the job.

Most of all, though, the Bond villain is a dreamer, one of the rarest of individuals who dares to be different, who rejects the comfort of the mundane and familiar in favor of the unknown and untried, who reaches for the stars and demands the most out of life. Sure, that often requires us to lose our lives, but don’t let one wrong turn distract you from the essential lessons of his extraordinary and singular journey through life. Don’t be one of the herd – dare to live the dream!

So although the Bond villain is, after all, a villain, I cannot help but feel a grudging though strong sense of respect for what he managed to accomplish before Bond dealt him his gruesome death.