Finding Certainty in Uncertain Times
Much of what we build eventually disappears. What may remain is the capacity other people developed through the work and what they no longer need us to provide.
Originally published November 17, 2022. Revisited in 2026.
A group of young professionals from different parts of the world once asked me a question that has stayed with me:
How do you know when it is time to move on to something new?
They were looking for guidance at a time when uncertainty seemed to be the only certain thing. I understood the question. I have asked some version of it throughout my own career.
I have been incredibly fortunate. I have worked with and learned from people across many professions, cultures and generations. Over time, I have also developed a clearer answer.
For me, it is time to move on when I am no longer helping others succeed.
That is not the answer I might have given earlier in my career. Then, I might have looked at the opportunities ahead, the next title or whether there was more work to invoice. Those things matter. But they are no longer how I determine whether the work is complete.
Even in my own business, my goal was often to make myself ultimately irrelevant.
That may sound like an odd ambition. I do not mean becoming absent or avoiding responsibility. I mean helping to create the conditions in which people no longer depend on me for confidence or permission.
I found the greatest satisfaction in watching people become comfortable sharing ideas openly, regardless of who was in the room or on the call. Titles and hierarchy began to matter less. Teams could question one another, make decisions and produce good work without waiting for my guidance.
When that capacity remained after I stepped back, I knew I had contributed something useful.
There has been a cost to working this way. I have lost money. Business partners have broken promises after years of support. There are stories I could tell about pain, anger and disbelief.
Yet those experiences also taught me to ask better questions and to remain accountable for my choices without making someone else responsible for every outcome.
The recognition I value most has never been an award. It has been the handwritten notes and deeply personal messages from people who felt that our work together made a difference.
Much of what I have designed, considered and led over the past three decades no longer exists. Organizations change. Products disappear. Programs end. What remains is the effect we have had on other people and what they became more capable of doing.
Uncertain times can leave us feeling overwhelmed or undervalued. We may not know exactly what the next role should be or when the right opportunity will appear. But we can still ask a more immediate question:
How can I help someone else succeed?
Leadership is not about making yourself indispensable. Sometimes the clearest evidence that you have done the work well is that others no longer need you in the same way.
Start there. Ask yourself, and the people around you: How can I help?