In our careers most of us aspire to go up the corporate ladder (with varying degrees of zeal), but most wishing for greater responsibility, autonomy and visibility.  So I was surprised when in a recent discussion with my father he told me about the Peter Principle which says that everyone eventually gets promoted to their level of incompetence.  Taken to its logical conclusion it means that in steady-state every non front-line employee, i.e. every manager, is incompetent.  Great.  Glad I’m a manager.

One of the most clichéd interview questions is “what are your strengths and weaknesses.”  Most of us have heard it so many times that we’ve prepared for it extensively.  Often we create a bogus weakness that could be seen as a strength by the interviewer such as “I’m a perfectionist” or “I’m very detail oriented.”  However, as pedestrian as this interview question is, and lately is seldom asked in interviews because everyone knows there’s a prepared answer waiting on the other end, the tragedy is answering this very question is crucial for real career advancement.

What if lasting, world-changing, fame-achieving, happiness-producing achievement in one’s career comes only to those driven by a higher purpose – i.e. those that have a mission – versus those who chase success in any form?

At a previous company I faced a crucial decision a couple years into my tenure.  My boss was leaving the firm and my job was being redefined by the recently appointed CEO.  As my scope of responsibilities was being dramatically changed I was faced with a question – should I go for my boss’s job or accept the fate of whatever role I settle into?  The answer proved to be my undoing and I learned the most valuable political lessons of my career here.

After nearly 5 years of undergrad computer engineering I was thrilled to be done with school and finally earn some money.  My first job was as a Program Manager at RealNetworks, a hot tech startup back in 1999.  I was attracted to this role because instead of a traditional "code monkey" job I got to be a "manager" - a modern day misnomer itself but I digress.  In retrospect this single decision was the highest opportunity cost I've incurred in my career.