Post-achievement clarity

A reminder to self that the grass isn't always greener

I recently caught up with an old friend who’s currently doing an MBA and has been fortunate to land not 1, but 2 MBB consulting job offers, including with BCG (my late employer). She’s a counterexample to WSJ’s latest article on elite business school graduates struggling to find jobs (which I personally find a bit sensationalist, but that’s for another article).

As you’d expect, she’s incredibly driven. A corporate weapon, a force of nature, a rockstar. Any of those would be fitting, though she’s too humble to admit it.

However, after I congratulated her on landing an offer many would kill for and shamelessly explained why she ought to pick BCG over Bain, she paused and said something unexpected.

“I’ve wanted to work in consulting since I was in undergrad, and I feel like I’ve worked my entire life for this moment, but now that I have the offer…I don’t know what to do.”

This struck a chord.

As someone who has worked in 3 traditionally “prestigious” industries - Investment Banking, Management Consulting, and Big Tech - I’m all too familiar with the post-achievement blues.

I’ve observed that my greatest feelings of enjoyment always came the moment before achievement - when momentum had built up to a near climax. The night before final round interviews, the week before moving to a new city, the days before college decisions - these were the moments when I felt the most excited, engaged, and dare I say, alive.

However, once I landed a job, got an A, or won an award, I allowed myself a fleeting moment of satisfaction before immediately ruminating on the implications of my success. What should I do now?

I clearly recall the night after landing my BCG offer, I was already thinking about what to do after - before I’d even started! While this might seem like no big deal to some, since consulting is often touted as a stepping stone career into more desirable “exit opportunities”, I think this constant rumination on what to do next becomes detrimental the more you progress in your career, especially when sometimes the best thing to do is stay where you are. We also can’t fully comprehend the implications of our future decisions, which is why

Marc Andreessen

’s first rule of career planning is “don’t plan your career”.

Trying to plan your career is an exercise in futility that will only serve to frustrate you, and to blind you to the really significant opportunities that life will throw your way.

- Marc Andreesen

We tend to overvalue the things we want

My friend’s statement echoed a haunting emptiness, and it has also become apparent to me is that oftentimes the idea - of the person, the job, or the lifestyle - is better than the actual thing itself. We tend to overvalue things we want when we don’t yet have them, but discount their value once we’ve attained them.

Put another way, the intrinsic value of the thing hasn’t changed, but our perception of it does. Only upon attainment of a goal do you finally have an “accurate” assessment of its value and this is where many realize that it wasn’t enough to meet their expectations.

This seems to be why many ambitious & successful people never seem satisfied, even if they’re at the pinnacle of their fields. They keep moving the goal posts. At work, I see colleagues weaving complex narratives about why the “next thing” will leave them better off, and I catch myself sometimes ruminating about how I don’t deserve to be satisfied until I’ve landed the next promo or joined an AI startup.

The modern day corporate thirst for more

I call it the “modern day corporate thirst for more” - a capitalism driven, social media hustle-culture fueled voice that whispers to our subconscious that we have no claim to satisfaction until we get the next raise, the corner office, the next job. In reality, this hunger cannot be satiated by any amount of base salary + bonus + stock, fancy office perks, or free food. Aldous Huxley describes this human condition in Brave New World:

Credit to Dylano for sharing this gem

Naval says desire is a contract we make with ourselves to be unhappy until we get what we want. But do we really know what we want? Or, are we compelled to pursue certain goals because of what we hear in the workplace, at home, and online? How many of our “desires” are actually ours, as opposed to things that we believe we should desire because of what others want?

Man is the creature who does not know what to desire, and he turns to others in order to make up his mind. We desire what others desire because we imitate their desires.

- René Girard

To what end?

Call me a pessimist or a cynic, but the conversation with my ambitious friend was a reminder to examine my own desires. Why do I pursue the goals that I pursue? Are these goals moving me in the right direction, or am I climbing the wrong hill?

More importantly, am I enjoying the process? Am I finding joy in not just the successes, but the failures as well? And, as Gurwinder writes in The Prism, am I recognizing the inherent value in every experience along the way?

Every moment is unique and unrepeatable, so appreciate every experience as if it’s your last (which, in a way, it is). Even if your current situation sucks, be gracious that, of all the humans that will ever exist, only you will have the privilege of experiencing this moment in this specific way.

- Gurwinder

Closing thoughts

I don’t see goals as a bad thing. I recognize that the pursuit gives me a sense of meaning and enjoyment from life. But when I let the outcome dictate my happiness, and I tell myself things like “I’ll be satisfied once I’ve landed that job”, “I’ll be happy once I’ve made $10M”, or “I’ll be content once I reach 100k subscribers on YouTube”, then I’m at risk of being disillusioned when reaching that goal leaves me feeling more empty than before.

As friend and fellow YouTuber Steve Huynh once told me, “intentionality is key”. Chasing goals solely for the sake of achievement breeds long-term dissatisfaction. So next time you find yourself chasing the 'next thing', question your motives carefully, because the grass isn't always greener.