The other day, someone at work asked me if I had regrets over
choosing a career in tech. Here's my response.
Updates 2016-08-11:
- Last night, Kesavan (the unnamed guy below) said it was fine to name him.
- This morning, I realized that I'd forgotten to mention something really important, perhaps
the most important fact about me: I've been extremely lucky. More on this is
in the addendum.
Amit,
Thank you for asking about regrets over choosing a career in tech;
your question honors me, and I hope my answer doesn't disappoint.
I think I mentioned that my career began over forty (40)
years ago, which is a source of great amusement and sometimes
astonishment. A few years back I was in a hackathon with
Mohit and Katiyar and Narver and one other guy who I won't
name… trying to do something in javascript, which
I still don't know. And I was mumbling about how I wish
I'd learned it in grad school. "But wait," I said,
"when I was in grad school, javascript hadn't been invented
yet."
The unnamed guy in our hackathon team said, "I wonder
how many of us were even born when Collin was in grad
school?" and it turned out he was the only one... which is
why I don't include his name here :)
But to your question: do I regret my career choice?
Well, after my bachelor's degree I needed to do something to
pay for rent and groceries. I wasn't good at anything in
school except math and circuits and programming.
Maybe I could have gone into statistics
or become an actuary or something, but frankly the path
into a tech career seemed more straightforward.
I have been thinking recently about something Garrison Keillor
said in one of his "Lake Wobegon" monologues: "I wonder if
perhaps we are less than our parents, and have given less
to our children." I think of my
dad, who ran out of money and didn't finish college. He got
drafted and taught electronics for a while. He got a
radiotelephone license and was engineer at a radio station.
He was a sales/support guy for IBM and worked under some
pretty unpleasant conditions. He switched to working
for the FAA, and had to spend months at a time away from
home for training. He went out and found work to do on
the side: he fixed and built and invented things. He knew
how to learn stuff and made the effort to do it. Car repair,
electronic equipment repair, remodeling—he did it all.
One day when he was in his 60s, he called a plumber for the
first time in his life.
In contrast, I've had an easy life. I've had
two professional employers—essentially two professional
jobs since college.
I haven't had to reinvent myself,
I haven't had to take a lot of initiative. Have I had to
work long hours debugging something? Sure; everybody has.
But that's not the same thing as having to invent myself or
figure out my next step in life.
I think what I'd say is that I did the best with what I
had and with who I was. Sure, sometimes these days when I
speak with our friends who go to Mexico and do medical work,
I wish I had gone into that field so that I could help
people in a more direct, intense, meaningful way. Given my
constraints at the time (private college was expensive,
even in the 1970s), I needed to finish quickly and start
making money soon.
Could I have switched at some point? Maybe, but things
got a lot more complicated with a mortgage and children.
Shoulda, coulda, woulda—but I'm no hero or sage;
it was enough effort to keep all the balls in the air,
without also thinking about making a major change.
Like many, I never got dissatisfied enough to consider
a career change seriously, until getting laid off in 2002.
At that point, I briefly considered becoming a teacher.
However, as I have since learned (from teaching Eng101),
it would be a YUGE effort for me to become suited to classroom
instruction. Also, with two college educations still ahead,
it just didn't seem practical to take a significant drop in
income.
So as I think back, my career in tech has been a good
fit for me. It's a good fit for my personality and my talents.
and has enabled my kids to graduate from college with no loans.
My wife has been able to spend a lot of time at home when
the kids were growing up, and she's now working on a novel
and a collection of poetry.
We've had some extra money to give to those less fortunate
than ourselves.
Now the content of the work hasn't been really significant in
itself. It's not like inventing dwarf wheat (Norman Borlaug did that
and saved literally over a billion people from starvation);
it's just solving problems and writing stuff.
What has been rewarding in my view is learning stuff
and helping others. It's like what does a plant do? It grows,
it reaches for the sun, it pulls carbon out of the atmosphere,
it drops seeds, it provides shade. In doing that stuff, it brings
glory to its maker. I don't know if plants know they're created
by God, or if when they do what they do they "feel his pleasure,"
but I certainly do. Feel God's pleasure I mean. The stuff I do isn't
grand or terribly significant in a dwarf wheat kind of way, but
when my code works, or when I can help somebody learn something,
or encourage someone to try one more time, that's a good feeling.
You're near the beginning of your career, a career that I hope
will bring you as much stimulation and challenge and learning
and joy as mine has. I suppose I could try to tell you to take
more risks than I did, or try more new things, or push yourself
upward, but I obviously didn't follow that advice, and I'm not sure
it's good advice anyway.
No, what's really important in life, in my view anyway, is to
be home for dinner, to play with your kids, to manage your boss's
expectations so you can live a balanced life. Because really,
who's gonna hold your hand when you die?
It's not gonna be your boss, or if you're a manager/director/VP,
any of the dozens or hundreds of people below you in the org
chart. It's your family and your close friends. The patents,
the certificates, the quarterly recognition awards, etc. will
be forgotten.
OK, that's way too long. Thanks for reading this far.
I'd love to hear your story and your thoughts on all this.
-collin
Addendum: the role of luck in my story
If when you read the above, you think, "he sure was lucky," I'm here to tell you
that you are 100% right. Did I work hard? Sometimes. Did I get good genes from
my parents? The smartest thing I ever did was to pick the right parents at the
right time in history.
Because all the talent and grit and determination and hard work in the world won't get you far if
bombs are constantly falling outside your house, or if
there's no electricity and you can't go to school because
you need to help your parents gather food, or if your parents died
in their 20s from AIDS or ebola or something. Robert Frank
made a terrific case for the role of luck in this article in
the Atlantic. And in the latest Hedgehog Review,
Frank quotes David Brooks:
You should regard yourself as the sole author of all your future achievements and as the
grateful beneficiary of all your past successes.... As you go through life, you should
pass through different phases in thinking about how much credit you deserve.
You should start your life with the illusion that you are completely in control
of what you do. You should finish life with the recognition that, all in all,
you got better than you deserved.... As an ambitious executive, it's important that you believe that you will deserve
credit for everything you achieve. As a human being, it's important for you to
know that's nonsense.
The Credit Illusion NY Times 2012-08-02
link