This transcript has been edited for clarity and checked against the available source transcript and recording. Filler, false starts, and obvious transcription errors have been corrected without changing the speaker’s meaning.
Intro#
James: Hello, and welcome to Graduate Theory. Today’s episode is a compilation of many different episodes that we’ve had in the past on Graduate Theory.
I’ve gone back through the archives and thought about which parts and segments of Graduate Theory really resonated with me, and which I thought were some of the best content on the show. I’ve found the pieces that I think are really, really special and put them into this one episode.
Today, we’ve got seven different people speaking. There’s some serious, serious wisdom in this episode. It features some of the best content that has appeared on Graduate Theory over the last few months, and I’m really excited to share it all with you in one place.
If you want to connect with the podcast further and get more involved, you should definitely subscribe to the Graduate Theory newsletter. It includes content and summaries from every previously released episode. Every single week, I give you my thoughts and lessons from that week’s episode.
Definitely subscribe before we start. Without further ado, we’re going to hear from episode seven with Lidia Ranieri.
Lidia Ranieri#
James: Lidia is a former managing director at Goldman Sachs and currently works in her practice, On Purpose, to help clients identify, align with and act on purpose in their pursuit of excellence.
Here’s our conversation about how you can find your purpose.
One thing I want to ask, following on from that, is whether there are any steps you would take to find your purpose. It’s difficult, but how can we find it?
Lidia: When I work with people to explore this, I use visual cues. I once had to give a whole presentation on this topic and put together slides for it. In coaching sessions, I encourage clients to go to a place where they can visualise this for themselves.
I put up a whole heap of images I’d found of children, probably around four or five years old. One is dressed as a doctor, one as a superhero and another as a little scientist in a science lab. Another is standing on a stage singing, while others are getting ready in their dance clothes.
I put up these images because, when we go back and unravel it, purpose is very strongly linked to two key things. The first is our strengths. We love to use our strengths. They’re our God-given talents; they’re innate. When we give them expression, it feels really, really good.
It feels natural. It feels like we’re doing the right thing. Purpose is linked to strengths and values: what’s important to us and what we value. Why does one person value doing a certain thing while another person values something else? It all leads into this intricate internal system that has this knowing.
When I put up those images, or encourage clients to come up with their own, I invite them to think about a time when they might have had these images for themselves. Take, for example, the child standing on stage. The point of that image and metaphor is not necessarily, “I want to be a singer, actor or performer.”
It may be, but it’s an indicator that something within you really enjoys expressing itself to an audience. You may need to find a role that allows you to give a lot of presentations, because when you’re presenting, you feel on, energised and vital. You love seeing the responses from the people sitting in the room where you’re giving your performance.
For others, it may be the child in the lab coat. They may have curiosity as this burning feeling within them, and they need to work in a way that ignites that curiosity about the world. Those inroads really link to finding our purpose.
Childhood is a really fertile place to do some of this exploration because, when we see children at play, they very naturally enter what we call the flow state. This has been studied by psychologists. One of the most renowned researchers and psychologists in this area was a gentleman called Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, and he did a lot of research. Various other psychologists have joined this area of academic exploration.
What they’ve found is that, when we enter a flow state, we’re doing something that is truly engaging but just challenging enough. When we get to that place, we can do it for a very long time. Time doesn’t even occur to us, so we enter a kind of timelessness. We’re very focused on the task and not on ourselves.
The flow state is the state we want high-performing athletes and high-functioning corporate executives to enter, but you can only enter it when the activity genuinely engages you. That’s called having intrinsic motivation around the activity.
That’s why childhood is such an interesting place to start exploring this. We don’t have any of those statements—“I should”, “I ought to”, “everyone says I must”—or all that other externalised conditioning that creates beliefs within us. We are just who we are. It enables us to look back and say, “I really loved doing that.”
Of course, there are then practicalities such as earning a decent income, so we need to map some real-world considerations over those interior motivational states. But it’s a really good place to start finding purpose.
James: I’ve heard something similar from friends who went down one path and then changed direction. It was a process of winding back their lives to the stage where they made a key decision—perhaps what to study or which subjects to pick in high school—then returning to that crossroads and reassessing whether it was the right choice. Even though you have to wind back a little, you can start going somewhere else that may resonate more with you.
Lidia: I think that’s right. Life affords us so many opportunities to come to crossroads at various stages, and they present themselves at different times for different people. Those crossroads emerge because we’re being invited to answer the question, “What is it that I really want to do?”
We think about it as, “What do I want to do? Do I want to take this subject or that subject, this course or that course, this job or that job?” But if you dig beneath the surface, the deeper question is, “What part of me needs expression here? What part of me do I want to give expression to in some outer-world context where I’m applying myself every day?”
Knowing your strengths and values can help you navigate those decisions so that you’re more closely aligned with giving yourself that expression. From a psychological standpoint, that’s what leads to fulfilment, life satisfaction and happiness.
James: Do you think it’s possible to find your purpose holistically, or is it something you’re always getting closer to—a moving target that may change over time? You try to get closer and closer, but perhaps you never really reach it. I know stories of people, and I’ve experienced this myself, where you think, “I’m going to find my purpose and do this. It feels good, so I’ll keep going—but maybe it’s not quite right.”
Do you ever reach a stage where you can say, “I’ve found exactly what I’m going to do. This is it. I finally made it”? Or is it always a moving target where you’re getting closer to it and finding your way?
Lidia: I think we burden ourselves with the idea that there is one purpose. Some amazing individuals are born to a purpose. A great sportsperson is always an easy way to understand this.
You might think that Michael Jordan was born to the purpose of being one of the best basketball players the world has ever seen. But that would rob him of having any purpose now, because he isn’t doing that anymore. I like to think that we have a purpose, and it may be a staged experience.
My purpose in this role, at this particular time, may simply be an apprenticeship. I’m in a learning mode. That’s my purpose right now: I’m in a skill-acquisition mode. That mode needs to be aligned with where I have a natural interest and can develop real competency, because then I feel good about myself.
I need to be doing something where I can see myself improving; otherwise, I get demotivated. Purpose can mean that, for this moment in time, this is the right place and the right role for me, as long as I’m giving the fullest expression to things that make me feel vitalised and engaged. When that has run its course, for reasons we’ve all experienced but can’t explain, your interest suddenly starts to wane.
You think, “It’s just not doing it for me any more. I’m just not that interested.” That’s a sign that it’s time to move into another phase. It’s still your purpose because, as you say, you never get there. What is “there”? It’s just a journey of giving yourself the opportunity to express yourself to your fullest capacity and at the highest functioning level you can.
Some phases involve learning. Others might involve working on something to prepare it for the next stage. They’re like Lego blocks: they build on each other. You may then have a peak experience that lasts for a number of years, as Michael Jordan did. It may be something that is acclaimed, revered or recognised.
But maybe it doesn’t receive outward recognition. Maybe it’s simply your own experience of it as a golden era. Then it changes and your purpose moves into something else. Our purpose is interwoven through a journey in which our wisdom and experience change.
Our stage of life also determines what we’re more attuned to. I like to help people by unburdening them of the idea that there’s one thing. There are many paths, and they may all lead to what I think everyone wants: that peak expression, that golden moment, and sustaining it.
There are ways to try to ensure that you sustain it. When I talk to executives about peak performance, there’s an idea that it’s marked by certain externally recognised success factors. That can be a component of it, but in truth, peak performance is some level of optimised functioning.
To arrive at your most optimised level of functioning, we’re assuming that you’re competent and good at what you’re doing. You have to work to the point where you’ve established that. But to sustain really highly optimised functioning, we can’t be constantly peaking. Performance curves are like a sloped hill: they go up gradually and then drop off really sharply.
At the top of the curve is peak performance, so you’re building up to it. Just after peak performance, there’s a little extra on the other edge of the hill before you slope down. That’s your stretch zone. If you don’t step back from peak performance and stretch, and go back down the hill towards the recuperation zone, you can’t sustain peak performance.
The other side of the slope after stretch is overwhelm. Performance drops off very rapidly and sharply, leading to exhaustion, burnout, health issues or some kind of physical, mental, emotional or spiritual crisis, because we can’t sustain ourselves at those peaks. Getting to our purpose and sustaining ourselves in these peak moments is like a dance: we go there and taste it, but sometimes we have to go back down the hill.
In the context of purpose, we have these big moments. We’re on fire and everything is going our way. We’re winning deals, our business is growing and we’re usually working long hours, but it’s a pleasure. We might work weekends because we’re engaged in a creative process and loving it.
But after whatever it is peaks in us, in the activity, in the event or in something being delivered, we have to step back. That’s still our purpose. Our purpose can still be in that recuperation zone, where it doesn’t seem as “on”, because we’re getting ready to re-enter.
It will be a different set of circumstances, people and challenges, but it still reignites that fire. If we don’t step back, we can lose it—not our purpose, but our ability to engage with it.
Adam Geha#
James: The second segment today is from episode 20 with Adam Geha. Adam is the CEO and co-founder of EG, a data-driven investment manager and developer with over $5 billion of assets under management. This is a fantastic episode, and this section is our conversation about boundaries around your time and time management.
I’m picking up a lot from your really strong boundaries around your time. Something has to be quite valuable to get through that barrier, and I think that’s really important.
Adam: It’s not rude to police your time.
It’s important to let your listeners know that policing the boundaries of your time is actually an act of kindness to them, to you and to the business. Just don’t be gruff or rude about it. I try always to be soft in delivery but hard on content. If people don’t get the sense that your time is a super-valuable commodity, you’re sending the wrong signal to the world.
They should immediately feel that, when they’re handling your time, they’re handling something super valuable. When a meeting’s content ends early, I ask, “Are we finished? Can I leave now?” Just because it’s a half-hour meeting, if we’ve done it in 15 minutes, fantastic. I can leave 15 minutes early and make a couple of phone calls.
When my wife calls me, I almost always answer, or I tell her that I’ll call her back shortly. I let her know I’m in a meeting and ask whether it’s important. During business hours, my wife never has a relaxed conversation with me because I’m sending her the signal that I’m on the field, playing in the World Cup. I don’t have time for distractions.
If it’s important, tell me what it is. If not, let’s wait until after the game, when I’ve got the headspace, and that’s with my wife. But I’ll always take a call from my mum because she calls me very irregularly, and I worry that she needs my help or is in a bad spot.
You do need to take certain calls, but you need to be very clear with everyone who treats with your time that they’re dealing with a valuable commodity.
James: That’s a great piece of advice. I like how what you said reflects how you value your time and how you let other people respect it. I think the way the two intertwine is really, really powerful.
I was recently going through your LinkedIn and looking at all the wonderful posts you have there. One was about how the universe is a fractal, and how looking at one day is almost like looking at your whole year or your whole life.
I thought that was really profound and fascinating. I can link it in the show notes so people can read it. Do you remember this post? What was the inspiration behind it?
Adam: Of course I do. I’m mystically inclined, so I’m very interested in transcendental meditation and the union one gets in the deeper realisation that we are part of something far greater. I very much feel that my life is part of a broader tapestry of human evolution as a species towards a higher consciousness.
I see myself as part of a great adventure of raising human consciousness to a level where it feels centredness, inner peace, compassion and non-judgement. From that context, I’m very fascinated with Eastern mysticism, which has lots of repetitive patterns. For example, the thousand-petalled lotus is fractal.
It’s a vision you get in deep meditation, and it signifies a feeling of union with the greater stream of consciousness, which is manifested creation. I’m an admirer of trees and clouds, and I take lots and lots of photos of them. They’re epiphanies for me.
Especially when I’m exercising in the morning—when I’m cycling—I’ll pause if I see a beautiful pattern of clouds or a beautiful tree. I’ll take detailed photos. Both clouds and trees are fractal. They’re a symbol of how the universe is constructed: from the little comes the big. It’s the pattern of the universe.
It’s absolutely the case that, if you live your day disciplined in thought and action, so too will your year be, and so too will your life be. Always be faithful with the little, because from the little comes the big.
James: That’s really profound and great advice. You’ve been talking about your executive assistant, and perhaps that’s something that’s only come into your life relatively recently. How has your time management changed over time? Some people might not have that support, so I’m curious how things have changed for you.
Adam: It changes very much as you get older and more senior, with greater responsibilities.
To give you an idea, I’m managing eight companies in some capacity. I have two investments on my personal account that are companies, and I’m involved in three charitable foundations. There are 13 organisations to which I make a meaningful contribution at a strategic level.
There are also a couple to which I make a meaningful contribution at an operational level. I’m always busy now. I don’t have the luxury of not thinking about one of those 13 things when I have a spare moment, because I know I can add value. It’s a really interesting life, but I obviously need to learn how to put boundaries on it so that my wife and children also get access to me, and vice versa.
You definitely revere time more as you get more senior. I would love to say to your young listeners: treat time as though it is super precious while you’re 23, because you’ll most certainly treat it as super precious when you’re my age and you’re 50.
Why not commence that practice, knowing that it will become a reality in your life? Bring it in early, make it part of your life today and you’ll get so much more. I just wish I had the disciplines I have now when I was 23. By the way, I’ve had an EA fully dedicated to me for about 10 years.
She’s in Manila, so she costs me a fraction of what it would cost to hire an Australian executive assistant. I could actually afford to have two or three in Manila. I might well get a second executive assistant once I feel the first one’s workload is maxed out. It’s every bit worth the investment.
As soon as you can afford an executive assistant, whether or not your business pays for it, you should invest in one because that person is going to enable you to perform. I’m able to produce literally two or three times the output of my 35-year-old self. What’s that worth? Millions of dollars.
Dan Brockwell#
James: The third section today comes from episode 15 with Dan Brockwell. Dan is the co-founder and chief meme officer at Earlywork. There are now over 3,000 people in the community. He’s previously worked at Uber, Atlassian and a bunch of other places. Dan is a huge legend. Here’s our conversation about how you can get job offers without applying through the traditional process.
James: You mentioned right at the start of your last answer that you reached out to a company cold and got a job there. I really want to speak more about this because almost no one does it. People I now speak to at companies say, “This is actually kind of a good idea.”
You can reach out to people cold or meet people who work at the company where you want to work. I’m curious about your experience doing this outside the traditional way of getting a job. You aren’t waiting for the company to list a job and then applying alongside 50, 100 or thousands of other people.
Instead, you’re going in, putting more eggs in their basket and connecting with the people who work there. I’d love to hear about your experience and process. Maybe you know other people who’ve done something similar. I’m really interested to hear your thoughts.
Dan: Job listings are just the tip of the iceberg in the job market. People see them and think, “Okay, I’ll apply for those,” then sit and hope for the best. In reality, startups are always growing, raising money and hiring.
So many things happen through referrals, ad hoc introductions or other hidden job opportunities. If you want to work at a startup, remember that startups, by their nature, like proactive people. The best thing you can do is be proactive. Don’t wait for the job listing; make the job listing.
I’m happy to talk through my experiences. I worked for three different startups at university. The first was a social-payments startup called Tilt. Originally, I was conceptualising an app with friends called Friends with Deficits. We were trying to track debts among friends in different currencies.
We did some competitive research and found Tilt. I thought, “Damn, they’ve solved it all. But they have an ambassador group at UNSW.” I emailed the country manager in Australia and said, “I’d love to join the ambassador group.” He opened applications, I joined the group and did that for a couple of months.
That converted into a growth internship, leading an ambassador program with a couple of hundred students across Australia. It was a ton of fun. It came from two things: first, the proactive outreach through a cold email; and second, being part of something related to the company before actually having the role.
An ambassador program is a great example, but it might be a beta testers’ group, doing user research or helping promote the company. There are ways to become affiliated with a company without formally being part of it.
Internship number two was fascinating. There was a restaurant-ordering startup called Table, essentially like me&u or Mr Yum, where you could order on your mobile in a restaurant instead of waiting for a waiter. I saw ads for the startup on Facebook.
They were for a referral competition, and the company hadn’t launched yet. I thought, “This is super cool.” I spammed it across a bunch of university discussion groups and reached the top 10 in referrals within about 24 hours. Then I reached out to the chief operating officer or chief executive officer on LinkedIn.
I said, “Hey dude, I love the problem you’re working on. It’s super, super fascinating. I’m actually interning at a startup right now, but I saw your thing and shared it with a bunch of people. I ended up reaching this referral position. If you’re open to bringing on a marketing intern, let’s have a chat.”
I ended up meeting them at Westfield Bondi Junction. After one meeting, I worked for them for about six months. That came from two things. First, cold LinkedIn DMs are amazing. With cold LinkedIn DMs, the key is “who, why, what”: who are you, why are you reaching out and what’s in it for them?
Explain who you are: perhaps you’re a student majoring in this and interning at that place. Explain why you’re reaching out: you came across them and really liked XYZ about them. Then explain what’s in it for them. Ask, “Are you open to taking on an intern?” Don’t ask whether they’re currently hiring or seeking an intern. Just ask whether they’re open, because no one wants to be closed.
They might not have a job listing, but when you ask whether they’re open to an intern, they may say, “Maybe—let’s have a chat.” It’s a good way to get your foot in the door.
The other thing is adding value before you’ve even reached out. I reached out after I’d shared the app with a bunch of people. That shows proactivity: the startup thinks, “If we hire this person, we won’t have to wait to give them instructions. They’ll go and do things that help the company.”
The final example is interesting. There was a job listing, but it wasn’t an internship.
It was at a company called Ofload, an awesome road-freight logistics startup in Australia. They had a listing for a full-time operations associate. I was working at Amazon at the time, so I’d been deepening my interest in logistics, but I wanted to hop back into the startup world.
I saw the listing and thought, “I can’t work full-time, but I could work part-time.” I applied and messaged the chief operating officer: “Hey man, I love what you’re working on. I’ve got a background at Amazon and Uber, so I’m passionate about the logistics space. For context, I’m still wrapping up at uni. Would you be open to taking on someone part-time?”
I had several interviews with the team and eventually they said yes. The role was meant to be full-time, but we turned it into a part-time role. I later went full-time there and worked there for about six months. It was my last role before Atlassian, and I absolutely loved it.
The lesson is that sometimes a job description will tell you roughly what a company wants, but they’re flexible. It might say two-plus years’ experience; apply anyway. It might say full-time when you want to work part-time; apply anyway. Don’t sell yourself out of the opportunity. Have the conversation.
If they like you, they’ll make space for you. If it isn’t the right fit, that’s okay. Some people will say, “Sorry, we need someone full-time,” and that’s totally fine. It isn’t a personal insult. But if you talk to enough companies, opportunities will start to pop up. You can create job opportunities where you previously thought none existed.
To wrap up, cold LinkedIn DMs to founders and hiring managers at startups are super, super powerful. Beyond DMs on LinkedIn or Twitter, another way to stand out is to send a video résumé or pitch. I’ve seen candidates record Loom videos, which is super cool and gives a real personal flavour. You can also get people to refer you.
A really cheeky approach is to give the company feedback on its app. You could say, “I went through and redesigned your website,” or, “I rewrote the copy on your website.”
Be proactive: show them what you would do to improve it, send it to them and see what happens. It’s very low-risk. You could give feedback on the product or write about the company. For example, you could write an article about how Eucalyptus has grown into a billion-dollar company using Instagram marketing.
I don’t know whether they’re quite a unicorn yet; you’ll have to fact-check me on that one. The point is that there are so many proactive ways to stand out that aren’t a résumé or cover letter. If you want to stand out and be in a job pool of one, rather than 500, do something different.
James: That’s so important. Something like a personal brand, as we discussed earlier, becomes really, really powerful when combined with all this and you’re applying for jobs.
Dan: For sure. Coming back to that personal-brand thread, I think having a personal brand online creates luck. I’ve been lucky many, many times in my life, and I think a lot of my career success is almost just down to luck. But having a personal brand amplifies your luck: more lucky opportunities come up.
For instance, I was pretty active on LinkedIn. I was one of those cringe, “LinkedIn memes for career-minded teens” types of people who made posts on LinkedIn. I won an award in the business-consulting space, made a post about it and ended up getting a message from a guy working at Google. He said, “I love your profile. Would you be interested in an internship at Google?” I thought, “Sweet.”
This guy ended up moving to Uber a couple of months later. We lost touch and then reconnected. He said, “I’m now at Uber, we’re bringing on interns and we’ve got one spot left. Would you be interested?” I said, “Yeah, sure. That’s awesome.”
I ended up getting an internship at Uber in sales purely because someone had seen my content on LinkedIn. That’s what I’m saying about having a personal brand: it’s not who you know, but who knows you and what they know you for.
People encounter your content, and that’s the initial funnel into opportunities with you. It’s advertising for you, pretty much.
James: It’s exciting that everyone has this ability. There’s no wall or barrier between you and having that story you just mentioned, where people come to you with jobs. There’s absolutely nothing in the way, so it’s so valuable.
Dan: I think that’s super important from an equity, diversity, access and inclusion perspective. If you look at traditional hiring in industries like consulting, law and banking, there’s often been a perception of nepotism: you have to have friends in the firm or know people there.
The beauty of online content is that anyone can do it. It’s permissionless. You don’t need to know anyone; you just start creating. If you’re creating good content consistently, it will attract people who care about those things. The really important question then becomes: how do we help more young people, particularly those from underrepresented and disadvantaged backgrounds, take advantage of the power of content creation for their careers?
I think it gives you a massive, massive advantage.
Michael Gill#
James: Section number four of today’s podcast is with Michael Gill. Michael, otherwise known as Gilly, worked at the law firm DLA Piper in Sydney for over 50 years. At different stages, he was chairman and managing partner, and he’s now a consultant. He’s been president of the Law Society of New South Wales and the Law Council of Australia, and he established the Australian Insurance Law Association.
He has some really interesting ideas about what it means to have a career. Here’s our conversation about work–life balance.
Michael: Just let me pose a question, if I may. What, for you, is work? How do you think of work?
James: I think work is what you’re employed to do, in some sense. Whatever your job is, or doing things for an employer, would be work. You could extend that: this podcast is probably work for me as well.
It’s fun, so it doesn’t feel like work. Even though it isn’t necessarily for anyone, it would probably still fall under that definition. But from a career perspective, I’d say that doing something for an employer is work.
Peter: I agree with Fricker, but there are a lot of other ways you could interpret the word. This is a bit of a lawyer’s answer. I play soccer, and going to training and trying to improve could be considered a type of work.
I don’t think it’s limited to rocking up and doing tasks for an employer. There are lots of other ways to interpret the word “work”. It depends on how you want to think about it. I don’t know whether that really answers your question, Michael.
Michael: They’re very good answers. It’s the sort of thing that will be revealed to you personally, in your own circumstances, over time. Do you prefer James or Fricker?
James: James is fine. Two of my close friends call me Fricker because we have a few Jameses in our friendship group, so that tends to be easier.
Michael: I must say, I’m totally distracted by the Fricker thing.
So James, when you say, “Do something for your employer,” can you think of an example where you do something only for your employer? In other words, you personally have nothing invested at all.
James: That’s a good point. Even with a basic task such as sending emails, it’s still a mutually beneficial relationship because they’re paying you to do it. There’s something in it for you in that sense. In terms of career progression, the things you do are also driving your career forward and may make you more employable or more able to do other things for other people. Growing your skill set is beneficial to you as well.
Michael: Skills was one of the words I was hoping you would get to, setting money aside for a moment. Even something like a simple email has the potential to develop your knowledge, skills and values—every interaction does, if you think of it that way.
Coming back to my response, in a funny sort of way, I no longer see work–life balance. Since I retired from the partnership in 2008, I’ve had more time to read and think. I now see work very much as what you do while you’re waiting for the real joys in your life. Once you’re in that space, I promise you, you’ll never think of it as work again. I won’t say 100 per cent, because I don’t want to go overboard, but when you’re largely of the view, “I really love doing this stuff. This is me.”
I love the people I’m with. I love the opportunities it’s giving me to develop as a human being. It makes me return to my family every day as a really decent human being. I no longer have any notion of leaving work at the front door. It makes sense.
Peter: It’s something for everybody to strive for.
Michael: It’s not easy. It’s bloody hard, because there’s so much in life that competes with our attainment of that space. I could start to talk about some of the awful challenges your generation has around lifestyle and getting the money that enables you to live in a particular way. Then you and those closest to you become locked into the idea that, whatever else you do in life, you need a job that returns a minimum of X dollars every month.
When young lawyers from big law firms come to me—this picks up your point, Peter, which has a lot of honesty to it—they say, almost as an admission of failure, “This isn’t really for me. I don’t know how to tell my parents. I’ve got a job in the M&A department at Freehills or DLA Piper or somewhere. I hate it. I absolutely hate it.”
I ask them, “How important is money to you?” Because if money isn’t terribly important to you as a lawyer, the world’s your oyster.
But if the first thing you need to tick off is earning no less than $100,000 or $200,000 a year, or being on that slippery ladder to partnership, then you’ve closed off a huge number of options which may very well include your authentic self.
Cheran Ketheesuran#
James: We’re up to number five in today’s podcast. This part comes from episode 35, the last episode, with Cheran Ketheesuran. He’s a former investment-banking intern at Macquarie, currently interns at OIF Ventures and is an incoming graduate at McKinsey. We spoke about Cheran’s lessons for people at university and his general lessons for approaching life.
I’ve got one more question for you, Cheran. It’s a question I ask all the guests who come on the show. If you could go back to when you were first starting university and embarking on this journey of discovering the different opportunities awaiting you, what advice would you give to someone who’s now just starting their journey?
Cheran: I’d probably say three things. I have to keep it very structured as a future consultant. The first would be: do things your own way. I’ve mentioned the phrase “hedonic treadmill” a few times now, but it’s very easy to fall into. I know I’m a person who imposes this thinking on others: you see people’s LinkedIns and say, “By doing this, you got to this. By doing that, he got to there.”
Be conscious that there are a million ways to get where you want to be. Be driven enough to pursue goals. If you’re pursuing roles, titles or whatever it is, that’s fine. But don’t be so driven that you forget, as they say, to smell the roses along the way, or forget the reason you’ve taken that journey.
I’m not ending up in banking, but I’m still glad I spent one and a half years there because it taught me a whole skill set. If I were completely focused on the outcome, I’d think that time was a waste, which it certainly wasn’t. So, firstly, do things your own way.
The second thing is: nobody cares. That sounds rather flippant. What I mean is that, genuinely, nobody cares about so many of the failures we have each day. I remember seeing a visualisation on Twitter. Imagine two concentric circles: one circle with a small circle in the middle. That small circle is how much other people think about you. All the space around it is how much you think about other people thinking about you.
That’s the reality: literally nobody cares. Everyone has their own issues and problems to sort through. It’s very liberating once you realise that, because suddenly you’re focused on your own happiness and the personal pursuit of your goals. That’s all you need in life.
Life is already tough enough without worrying about what other people think, the impact of not getting X or not being at a particular stage in life. It’s especially easy to fall into that mental trap when you surround yourself with high-achieving academic cohorts, as at the universities you and I have attended.
The last thing I’d say is: life will generally be okay. This links back to “nobody cares”. I’ve said it a lot because it’s graduate season at the moment, and many students in the years below—including some I tutor at university—have been really stressed and worried about applications.
Remember that everybody peaks at a certain time, and it won’t be at 22 for everyone. It would be rather sad if you peaked at 22. The vast majority of your listeners and the people in this community live in a time that’s better than any before it. Generally, if you work hard enough and don’t let luck impact everything in your life, you’ll be okay and eventually get where you want to go.
There’s no rush to reach particular goals. Just because most people seem to reach goals within a certain period doesn’t mean that you have to as well. Countless people reached their first and peak successes in their forties and fifties; Reid Hoffman is a prime example.
Those would be my three pieces of advice: do things your own way, nobody cares, and it’ll all be okay. James, it’ll all be okay.
Lacey Filipich#
James: The sixth section today comes from episode 29 with Lacey Filipich. Lacey was valedictorian at university in her chemical engineering degree, and she started work in the mining industry. Since then, she’s released a book, given TED Talks and founded her company, Money School.
She’s done all this stuff. It’s really, really incredible. Here’s her advice to graduates, including a great story about working for the right boss.
If you had to restart your career and wind back to when you were first starting work, is there anything you’d do differently in approaching your career progression or finances, knowing what you know now?
Lacey: There’s one small financial thing I didn’t understand as a graduate, but now I think, “Shoot, I should have done something about that.”
When I was working for Western Mining, BHP took us over. That was in my second year as a graduate. We’d been given options with Western Mining, but I didn’t understand what options were, so I didn’t exercise them. Now that I understand, I think, “That’s $8,000 I could have had.”
When something happens financially at work—whether it’s a share plan, salary sacrificing, superannuation matching or something similar—take the time to get support if you don’t understand it, so you can make a good decision. If you get an offer from work, it’s really important to understand whether it’s right for you and take the opportunities you can. Share and option plans are often designed to keep you with the company, but they’re also a leg-up.
They’re an advantage, but if you sign without understanding them or ignore them because they’re too hard, you can give up a lot. My advice is to take the time to learn.
The other thing I would encourage people to do wasn’t something I’d even thought about at the time. You can tell from our discussion that I’m quite a forthright person, and I’ll fight for what’s right for me.
In my second year, I was one of seven graduates. Two of us were female, and the other five were men. We were at a site in Kalgoorlie, Western Australia, where there were 10 women in total among 300 employees. That was the reality of going into mining in a remote location back then.
It’s very different now. The next site I went to was 20 per cent female, rather than 10 out of 300. That first situation wasn’t normal, but when you’re the only woman on a site, or one of the few, you often get the “women’s jobs”.
In this particular case, during the 18 months I’d been there, my general manager had lost five executive assistants. That’s not normal. Clearly, it was a difficult role. They couldn’t find someone and really needed one, so they asked me to fill in. I had a massive tantrum—not throwing my fists, but I went into my boss’s office and said, “You’re asking me to do this because I’m a woman, and I’m not happy about that.”
There were five other graduates who were male. Any of them could do that role. Why did they pick me? I had a real bee in my bonnet about how we always give women the job of taking notes and getting the frigging tea. It was a real issue I’d heard so much about, and I was really sensitive to it.
I overreacted, but my boss said, “It’s fair for you to say that, because this does happen. But I promise you, Lacey, that’s not why you were chosen. Can you take my word for it that you’re going to learn something really important and that you want to take this role?”
I agreed because I really liked my boss, JP, who was fantastic. I said, “Fine, I’ll do it, but I’m not happy that you’ve picked me because I’m a girl.” He said, “I’m not picking you because you’re a girl. Stop it.” It turned out that BHP was looking to buy Western Mining.
I got to be part of the war room set up for the merger and acquisition. I joined discussions with the executive team and heard how they would pitch the company and persuade another company to buy it. I got to learn about M&A.
Learning that at 22 is unusual for a graduate engineer who’d just come off the furnace in a scruffy, dirt-covered outfit. I was in these meetings because I could make graphs and type, and they needed that. I got to hear those conversations and understand how a war room was set up. It was some of the most invaluable experience I got in that graduate program. You couldn’t have planned it.
My boss had noted that I wanted to be a CEO because I’d told him. He’d asked, “Where do you want to go eventually?” and I’d said, “I’d like to be a CEO, so I want to do management stuff.” He gave me the role so I could get this amazing experience, because I was the graduate who’d said I was interested in that work.
He was doing the right thing by me. The fact that I was female was neither here nor there. I’m lucky that, when I didn’t listen to him, he didn’t say, “Fine, I’ll give it to someone else,” just to spite me. I’m very lucky that he understood my response. That’s the difference between having a good boss and a bad boss.
What did I learn from that? Sometimes you’ll think something is happening for a reason when it isn’t. I had a bee in my bonnet. I looked at everything and thought, “They’re asking me to do that because I’m a girl. I’m refusing on principle because I’m a feminist, and thou shalt not make me.”
That isn’t always the case; it’s just your frame of reference. You need to be willing to listen when people tell you that’s wrong. Sometimes you’ll be right and sometimes you won’t. I think that’s the most important point.
The second thing I learnt from this experience, which has stayed with me throughout my career, is to pick your boss wisely. No one has a bigger impact on how happy you are at work than your boss. The end. I reckon 80 per cent of your satisfaction at work comes from whether you have a good or not-so-good boss.
I think you have to have had not-so-good bosses to understand what a good boss is. I’ve only had a couple of bad ones in my time. I’ve been very lucky and had fantastic bosses, but I started getting very choosy early on about whom I’d work for.
When I was younger, I worked for—I’m going to be blunt—a bad boss. He was shocking and shouldn’t have been allowed to manage people. Everything was cookie-cutter, with no consideration of anyone’s personal views, circumstances or preferences. It was always, “This is how we do it. You will do it this way,” or, “We never give people that high mark. Everybody only ever gets an average.” He shouldn’t have been allowed to manage people.
Recognise that it isn’t necessarily you or your fault. When you’re new to the workplace, you don’t really understand whether you’re not meeting expectations or you’ve simply been lumped with a bad boss. Sometimes it’s a little of both, so you have to be honest with yourself. But if you’ve got a bad boss, accept that they’re a bad boss and aren’t right for you. Maybe they’re good for other people, but not for you. Become choosy.
That’s something I learnt from my experience when I was young: I’ve got to be really picky about whom I work for. Don’t work for arseholes. The end.
Josh Farr#
James: To finish today, we have episode 22 with Josh Farr. Josh is the founder of the Campus Consultancy. He’s worked with more than 20,000 leaders across schools, universities and non-profits. He’s given TED Talks and won awards for his speaking. He’s an incredible, incredible person. Today, we’re going to hear his advice for graduates starting in the workforce.
What advice would you give yourself if you were starting your career today?
Josh: That’s a good one. Probably what I just said: think about the next five years. Who do you want to help? If someone’s lost, a practical way forward is to try to answer that question.
I’m sure I’m stealing this from someone; it isn’t an original idea. But the point of a career is to end unnecessary suffering. If you’re unsure what you want to do, try to end unnecessary suffering. What does that mean? Find some suffering, find someone who’s struggling or find suffering that shouldn’t be happening—somewhere we have a resourcefulness problem, not a resource problem.
As I was telling you before we started recording, I booked an Airbnb today. When I logged in, the Airbnb homepage said, “Can we help house 200,000 Ukrainian refugees?” or something like that. Obviously, there are more than that, but I’m pretty sure 200,000 was the number shown.
There are many people on Airbnb with vacant places in different parts of the world who can say, “Actually, I could put a family up for two weeks. I could go without two weeks of Airbnb income and put someone up for two weeks, two months, two years or whatever it is. I could do this. It’s a small sacrifice. My family’s not going to starve.”
Many people listening might not have a spare Airbnb, but they may have a spare weekend, a couple of hours or $50 a month they can donate. My advice to my younger self would be to find a problem you care about.
Find some suffering, as weird as that sounds. Try to find something with leverage, where the suffering doesn’t need to happen, where there’s a solution and there are great organisations or people. Start getting involved in that space. Change your proximity. The thing that changed everything for me was proximity.
The hardest advice I’d give my younger self, and the hardest to say to people, is that I think you need to go somewhere in the world with real problems and spend time there. There are also real problems in your neighbourhood, such as domestic abuse.
It’s not as though you can knock on your neighbour’s door and ask, “Is any suffering happening in here?” Those problems are hidden, so it isn’t the same. You can either tap into what’s happening in your local environment or go somewhere and be in an environment where the problem smacks you.
I needed that smack: “There are real problems out here, and you can do something about them.” It wasn’t overly palatable, but it was really practical. The gap between what I thought I wanted and what I needed became really apparent. So my advice would be to find somewhere with a real challenge and be around people who are actually solving it.
If I had just seen this crisis and hadn’t seen anyone solving it, it would have been really depressing. But I went to the refugee border crossing and saw local families, bakers and people who had next to nothing giving away everything. They closed their businesses and gave all their bread to refugees they didn’t know, who were from another country and didn’t even have the same religion.
Some religious narratives blatantly said, “These guys are the enemy,” and these people responded, “We’re going to give our entire lives to helping them.” I thought, “That’s religion. That’s what it’s about.” Being around people who were so selfless and generous changed my perspective.
A version of that rant is what I’d hope to tell my younger self.
Outro#
James: Thanks for listening to this episode. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. If you want my takeaways—the things I learnt from this episode—please go to GraduateTheory.com/subscribe, where you can get my takeaways and all the information about each episode straight to your inbox.
Thanks so much for listening today. We’re looking forward to seeing you next week.