I consider myself very blessed and fortunate to have done well in my career, and my latest venture has placed me in a business unit which is under a lot of pressure to perform in an industry sector which has large growth potential. The net result is that everyone on our leadership team is under a great deal of stress. A few weeks ago, I joined a number of fellow senior leaders in a conference room to discuss an update of our go-to-market strategy, and after three hours of going back and forth, one of my peers stopped and and stated, "I'm sorry, but I have to say that I'm not feeling well right now."
Initially, I (and others) misunderstood her comment to mean that she felt that our conversation had either turned overly negative or she was perturbed at what she perceived as a tone of criticism towards her or her team's performance. The truth of the matters that she was physically ill. After trying to mitigate the situation by offering her sugary drinks, things became even more disconcerting as she developed chest pains. With all of us - especially my colleague - frightened, we wheeled her from the boardroom to the lobby as we waited for the ambulance and helped her gulp down aspirin. The paramedics brought her to a nearby health center and thankfully, all was fine. But understandably, it left us all a little shaken and wondering, "Is this all related to the stress we're under here at work?" and "Am I next?"
Here's the thing about work-life balance which the human resource talking heads always make clear: at the end of the day, the responsibility lies with you (the employee). And they're right. When push comes to shove, nobody forces anybody to take on a more responsibility than one can bear, and nobody can compel someone to to burn the candle at both ends at one's physical and psychological detriment. Bosses and corporate forces can create expectations which are unreasonable and burdensome, but ultimately the decision lies with the individual in terms of how much of that burden is taken upon his or her shoulders.
In a rational world, a person can take a step back and say defiantly, "This is ridiculous. What are they going to do, fire me?" and "If they want to find someone else better, they can be my guest, because all I can do is my best." But rationality tends to fly out of the window when it comes to hyper-competitive and hard-charging types who have a more-pathetic-and-than-admirable trait which causes them to refuse to "fail" (whatever that means). So what happens? They obsess and stress over their work with little regard for the collateral damage done to themselves and the people around them. Brilliant.
A few days ago, I had a conversation with an individual who has been deliberating the pros and cons of pursuing partnership in a Big 4 consultancy versus taking a senior-level position on the client side, which would reduce his upside salary but would still be very lucrative. He confided in me that while he'd come to the conclusion that he'd be willing to take the pay cut to eliminate the 90% travel that was currently keeping him away from his wife and 18-month old daughter. But he also maintained that most of his peers thought him crazy to make this trade-off.
That baffles me. I quote Bud Fox's exchange with Gordon Gekko in the original Wall Street film:
Bud: How much is enough, Gordon? When does it all end, huh? How many yachts can you water-ski behind? How much is enough, huh?
Gekko: It's not a question of enough, pal. It's a Zero Sum game – somebody wins, somebody loses. Money itself isn't lost or made, it's simply transferred – from one perception to another. Like magic. This painting here? I bought it ten years ago for sixty thousand dollars. I could sell it today for six hundred. The illusion has become real, and the more real it becomes, the more desperately they want it. Capitalism at its finest.
Bud: How much is enough, Gordon?
Gekko: The richest one percent of this country owns half our country's wealth, five trillion dollars. One third of that comes from hard work, two thirds comes from inheritance, interest on interest accumulating to widows and idiot sons – and what I do, stock and real estate speculation. It's bullshit. You got ninety percent of the American public out there with little or no net worth. I create nothing. I own. We make the rules, pal. The news, war, peace, famine, upheaval, the price per paper clip. We pick that rabbit out of the hat while everybody sits out there wondering how the hell we did it. Now, you're not naive enough to think we're living in a democracy, are you, buddy? It's the free market. And you're a part of it. You've got that killer instinct. Stick around, pal, I've still got a lot to teach you.
First of all, Gekko never really answers Bud's question. Apologists will argue that it's because Bud's asking a wrong and irrelevant question, but I'd say it's because Gekko doesn't have a good answer. And bringing that back into the context of my conversation with this consultant, if your personal and family stress level increases two-fold, does it really matter that you're making $300,000 instead of $200,000 a year? Is the stress to the point of physical sickness worth the fact that you can buy a Lexus LS instead of a Lexus ES? Isn't there a law of diminishing returns, where at some point that somebody's life is "comfortable and luxurious enough" that it's simply not worth the personal cost of that next rung of the career ladder?
That answer is 'yes'. Unfortunately, the people who need to heed that the most are generally those with the worst self-awareness in terms of this issue.
How do I cope with this? In my better days, I just remind myself that I'm playing with house money in my Father's casino, per a previous post. Let's just say I need to a better job at keeping that front of mind.