I am leaving my job at IBM (on good terms). Overall, my experience was positive and my team has been very encouraging of my decision. My excitement is physically palpable, though, and I eagerly anticipate future endeavors. Excuse me for romanticizing, but I can’t help thinking, “today is the first day of the rest of my life.” 
Last week, Charlie Hoehn released a free e-book entitled, Recession-Proof Graduate: Charlie Hoehn’s Guide To Getting Any Job Within A Year Of Finishing College. The premise is that today’s generation of college graduates are entering a job market that functions unlike that of any previous generation. By defying conventional wisdom and taking risks, Charlie has established himself as an Internet marketer and film editor that worked with a Who’s Who of popular Internet personalities, including Seth Godin, Tucker Max, Ramit Sethi, and Tim Ferriss.
I loved this book.
Charlies provides a voice of reason in to a generation that is inundated with more knowledge on a daily basis than previous generations thought imaginable. Discerning that knowledge — especially when it comes to career decisions — is hard. The themes are those I’ve encountered myself, struggled with, and written about: knowing when NOT to take advice, leveraging the Internet for networking, and increasing your productivity and comfort levels to remain competitive.
The motivation for this book is largely based on observing peers that are frustrated with the conventional job search. The points that really resonated with me are:
1. “Shotgun blasting your resume.” The importance of your network is greater than ever before. Social networking on the Internet allows us to connect to the smallest niches in the world. The people that comprise these niches are the ones you want to work with. We are no longer constrained to geographic boundaries. Not only can we connect to groups of people with which we are more strongly aligned, we can do so with less work. Better and cheaper. Win-win.
2. The misconception of “no good jobs in a recession.” The opposite of this is true. Recessions eliminate bad jobs. Recessions are simply correcting mechanisms for the market. They inevitably bounce back, and the nation grows stronger as a result (proven by United States GDP data from the last 200+ years). We are continually pushed toward greater automation, and there’s no automating challenging, creative jobs. The clearest contemporary example of this is the dearth of the Big Three U.S. automakers. They were ousted by car companies that not only paid their employees less, but had greater automation and hence could increase profit margins. I feel this example is rudimentary enough name not to cite data, so if you want to challenge it, feel free.
In short, my greatest sympathies go out to those that are affected by the recession, but these people are forced to attain higher skill levels to remain competitive in the job market. I think most people would agree with this; whether our nation will foster personal growth and education for these individuals is another issue.
3. “Grad school is stupid in 95% of all situations.“ The pursuit of a graduate degree should take place if and only if it’s 1. intrinsically-motivated or 2. absolutely necessary in your industry. Aside from that, the pursuit is illogical, economically-speaking (the only exception I might grant is an MBA from Harvard or Stanford or Wharton, simply because brands of elite schools have such a strong reputation).
This book’s weakness is that Charlie doesn’t address his audience directly. His advice reads as though it is universally applicable to all college grads, although it’s primarily suited for the business school crowd. Doctors, lawyers, and most engineers are still part of an old-school world. I would say those in the liberal and (non-mass-media) fine arts are in-between; they can be smart and leverage the niceties of the modern world, but can’t completely rely on it. Those in software engineering, marketing, advertising and mass media can anticipate careers in a world that’s completely been re-invented in the last 15 years.
Additionally, the latter half of the book pertains even more narrowly to Charlie’s discipline, marketing. As a freelancing software engineer, I suspect my approach would be somewhat different, although I don’t have enough experience to determine what that difference would be.
To be fair, this book is merely a precursor to a longer, more thorough study of gen-Yers. Find out more information at Hoehn’s Musings.
I will be leading a discussion at Bootstrapper’s Breakfast this Friday in Palo Alto to discuss the Paradox of Self-Education. Bootstrapper’s Breakfast is an event I have found to be very valuable to attend. They are small, personal discussions on the topic of bootstrapping startups, and the various subjects associated with it. They are led and organized by the wonderful folks at SKMurphy: Sean, Elaine and Theresa. Needless to say, I’m proud to have been asked to lead this and I’m really looking forward to it! I hope you’ll join us!
Friday, April 3rd, 7:30 am - 9 am
Hobee’s Restaurant
4224 El Camino Real
Palo Alto, CA 94306
(650) 856-6124
In college, I initially felt challenged, eventually adapted to the curriculum, and ultimately felt stifled by it. The change of environment from high school, new concepts, and people helped expand my intellectual horizons by a considerable amount, but I was also constrained by the need to complete mundane requirements to formally receive my degree.
I am now employed with a 40-hour-per-week job. While there is material to be learned at the workplace, it is ultimately limiting. Being a professional pays well, but the customer ultimately rules; or in the case of a large corporate software developer, decisions are typically dictated by bureaucracy, and the true essence of the field far from being achieved. My true passions are pursued in the hours after work and before bed. We can call these hobbies.
Hobbies tend to be thought of as casual pursuits. For instance, suppose I wanted to play the piano. Being in my mid-20’s, it would take a substantial amount of time to develop a decent amount of skill. What if I find I really like it, and aspire to become really good? I certainly couldn’t quit my job, since nobody is going to pay me to learn piano. I could devote all my leisure time to it, but various duties would get in the way; chores, crunch time at work, having a social life, etc. Most good piano players my age that have considerable skill have been playing since childhood. Yet, I don’t feel it should be “too late” to pursue this.
In short, I can make a determined, committed devotion to learn something well and practice it, but it ultimately must create value in the economy for it to be considered a worthwhile endeavor. While learning is generally seen positively by society, I feel it has taken the form of being intended primarily for employment competitiveness.
Over time, these interests blossom and the passions cumulate. Many could become full-time jobs in-and-of themselves (becoming a professional piano player, for instance).
The paradox of self-education is that there are intellectually stimulating endeavors which don’t have a direct impact in the job market or in school. While learning is generally a valued skill, and the knowledge attained by it sought after, there is a limitation of the desire to learn (and by extension, produce) due to these systematic social constructs.
In these hypothetical piano studies, suppose I were compose an excellent piece of work. This is entirely possible and should not be reserved for the professionals. Perhaps I could draw from my vast programming knowledge to apply some new ideas to the piece. In fact, not being a professional musician would allow me to think outside the box to which an educated composer has conformed and hence confined his thinking. This has occurred before in the past; for example, it is widely known that the Beatles could not read music, yet are considered some of the most prolific musicians in rock and roll.
In areas more closely related to my profession, I often wanted to pursue independent projects–contributing to an open source project, getting a group of folks together to prototype a new idea, or just hacking at something cool in general–but the need to succeed in school and find a job always prevailed. In other words, I had to sacrifice potential skill-improving and value-creating pursuits to ensure my GPA was solid, I demonstrated leadership experience, and otherwise had sufficient merit to please the recruiters on campus.
It seems that perhaps the only way to fulfill the quest of self-education is to have a flexible job that teaches you one specific area, and thus allows you to utilize your free time for the remaining ones. I believe that’s how Da Vinci did it as a painter. Did other polymaths do the same? What happened to the Renaissance Man? As the human race advances, will it become more difficult to become a generalist?
I know I am not simply suffering information overload, because this is something beyond, which no amount of contemporary technology can address. The only way to address this is to quit work and school and become solely immersed in combatting this type of overload, that is, pursuing a variety of endeavors.
Lastly, I used to think that early retirement was the only way to pursue this, that is, get rich and cash out young. There is an ostracizing element to early retirement, though and remaining a part of formal institutions is beneficial for larger pursuits. I am writing vaguely here, so please inquire if you have questions or thoughts.
For those of you out there that have solved this problem, what was your solution? What is your solution? Is intellectual curiousity a life-long challenge?
Thank you for the overwhelmingly positive response. Please see further discussion at Hacker News.
I recently posted a question to Hacker News, asking, “How do I make myself competitive for a master’s in Computer Science after college?” The colleges in question are particularly the super-competitive and elite that produce legendary talent, such as MIT and Stanford.
The responses are surprising. Most people suggest to shoot for a Ph.D. program, for a variety of reasons:
In summary, make the grad school investment as though you are applying to a Ph.D. program. This means that the importance of research and publishing is paramount. Have solid grades and fantastic recommendations from well-published people.
Last, I have heard that graduate admissions councils rank students in this order:
Why is it detrimental to have a graduate degree (a master’s) without a publication? Because it shows that you have attended school for a long time without showing a lot of interest in research. If you have done research, then you must not have been very successful.
EDIT: Rearranged the title to save space.
David Warren of the Ottawa Citizen makes an insightful contribution to the criticisms of university education in his latest article. In The soul-destroying effect of an elite education, he states:
Moreover, the late J.M. Cameron, among the greatest teachers ever to grace a college in Canada (St. Michael’s at Toronto), once gave me reason to hope. I asked him what, after half a century of teaching, he could find in common among his best students over all that time — the handful who stood out permanently in his memory. I expected him to struggle with this question, but he answered straightaway:
“They were all self-taught.”
Later: “They all arrived in university ready to make the best use of its resources, they were all burning with zeal to learn. They looked for professors who could help and guide them, they ignored professors who could not. Most came from humble backgrounds, and also stood out for their gratitude.”
It seems, thus, that Warren would argue that a university is simply a platform for students to thrive at what the enjoy doing. This contradicts why students actually attend college in the 21st century: to figure out what they want to do. By the time student these days have switched majors five times, they’re rushed to graduation and dumped into the job world.
This is exactly the reason I am taking time off before graduate school. I consciously decided to major in computer science in eighth grade (13 years old, approximately), but it has taken until now to learn about the nuances of different fields and to fully find my niche. I considered other fields: astronomy, music, economics. These were mere flings. Ultimately, there was simply no questioning my true love: computers.
Few of my peers shared such an affirmed sentiment. I would imagine an overwhelming world of uncertainty without guided passion. However, in spite of all this, I still don’t feel I “best” used the university’s resources. I certainly utilized them to a great extent: I was the leader of the ACM local chapter, I did independent research, I participated in many organizations, took advantage of the social scene, contributed service to the community, and even attended a few political rallies.
My undergraduate career was scattershot and all over the place, and so I don’t consider it the “best” way to university resources. My graduate education will be much more targeted to a small set of specific skills. Yet, to find what these skills should be took a whole undergraduate education of exploration.
Is this the “best” way to educate oneself? Some might argue so. Is this the need that undergraduate programs should aspire to fulfill? I don’t know.
Université du Québec professor Daniel Lemire doesn’t think so. Read his comments on a previous post of mine where I discussed the importance of school rankings.
My stance is that while rankings are important, they aren’t everything. One can move within a certain range of rankings and maintain a similar quality. I also believe that the competitiveness of the student body is important to teach you and to build a strong network.
Daniel believes that an undergraduate network is outgrown shortly and that a brand-name school is ultimately useful for nothing more than the first job. The name or reputation of an undergraduate program is inevitably overcome. Read the details here.
I recently discovered Daniel’s blog, and it’s fantastic. I highly recommend it for reading about academia, research and programming. He’s a professor that actually took the time out of his day to read my blog and comment–what a cool guy. Connecting teachers and students through blogs; now that’s education in action.
I want to record an unconventional idea I heard today from a professor of mine which I greatly admire, Greg Lavender:
Don’t attend a top-10 program. Why? The relationship between ranking and esteem for computer science programs do not fall on a linear slope. They are exponential, in one sense. The top four–Carnegie Mellon, MIT, Berkeley, and Stanford–are light years ahead of the rest in terms of funding, faculty, and admissions choices. Therefore, the differences between the top four schools and the tenth-ranked school, for example, is MUCH greater than the difference between the tenth-ranked school and the subsequently ranked programs.
Let’s disregard the top four schools for the time being. Chances are, if you are reading this blog instead of practicing for your GRE or publishing a research paper, you are not destined for the elite four. Instead, you set your sights on the top 10 or 15 for a better chance of admission.
The problem with having such a ranking-focused approach is that they are out of date (approximately 12 years old), and the process is very unscientific. Many well-ranked schools have been complacent. They get their research money, they have competitive admissions, and, overall, are well-established. They function “good enough” as is and don’t have the drive to change to become more competitive.
You are better suited to target a lower-ranked school that has this competitive drive. These are the schools that are adopting new educational techniques, updating their curriculum to keep the pace with the rapidly moving technology world, aggressively recruiting professors, students, and building relationships with new companies for recruiting. They are essentially the same as the startups trying to knock out the 800-pound corporate gorillas. They must be innovative to succeed very much in the same way that a curriculum must.