I love my career counseling work because it connects directly to how I derive purpose in the world. The thank-you notes are a pleasant bonus.
From time to time, clients send an email describing how a specific piece of advice made a meaningful difference in their career. I would like to think that every client leaves our conversations better for it because of something I said.
But occasionally the opposite is true.
Recently, one of the younger consultants at The Learning Consultants — the parent company of Career Counseling Connecticut — reviewed a heartfelt thank-you email from a client after a career counseling session.
He asked a simple question:
“Why is someone so thankful for your suggestion that he do what he already knew he should do?”
One of the older consultants answered immediately.
“He needed the interaction to create the action.”
If you ever had a trainer… you know.
The process of meeting with a trainer gets you into shape as much as the trainer.
You feel accountable. You might even want to impress. You know you need to be in shape for the next session. You are in the process of getting in shape. The hour a week with the trainer is great but it’s also the work being done outside of the meetings.
The client — I will call him Jerry — had been miserable in his job for years.
He was thirty-two. From my vantage point, that is very young to change careers. From his vantage point, it felt late.
After graduating from college, mostly unsure of what he wanted to do, Jerry landed a position in a small business in Stamford through personal connections. After a couple of years, he knew he did not want to stay there long term. He briefly explored moving to larger companies within the same industry, applying half-heartedly to a few roles, but he never pursued the search with real conviction.
In retrospect, he now understands why.
He did not want to remain in the industry at all.
Instead, he stayed. He mastered his job, which made the work easier, but the path forward was limited. Advancement opportunities were scarce and the work itself did not interest him. Bored, he redirected his energy into long-distance running and other hobbies while trying not to think too much about his career.
As he approached twenty-nine, he resolved: by age thirty he would move in a different direction.
To his credit, he did many things right.
He saved money.
He researched graduate programs.
He reflected seriously on what kind of work interested him.
He spoke with dozens of people about possible paths, including another career counselor.
Before his thirtieth birthday, he even found the answer.
Through one of those conversations, he discovered an industry that genuinely interested him. Better still, he had an entry point: someone he had spoken with was willing to bring him into the field in an entry-level position.
But Jerry did not act.
The move required trade-offs. He would leave a mid-level role for an entry-level one. The salary would be somewhat lower. From the outside world, it might look like he was going backward.
So he stayed where he was.
He did not leave at thirty.
Or thirty-one.
Or thirty-two.
I have written elsewhere about the tension between opportunity cost and transactional cost. Jerry was making the classic mistake. He underestimated the opportunity cost of staying in a career he did not want while overestimating the transactional cost of making the move.
Yes, his title would temporarily decline. Yes, his income would dip.
But had he entered the new field at thirty, he likely would have caught up in responsibility and compensation within a few years — this time in a career that actually interested him.
Most of my career counseling clients are “lost” in the sense that they genuinely do not know what direction to pursue. In those cases, the content of our conversation — identifying interests, evaluating options, mapping next steps — provides the primary value.
Jerry’s situation was different.
He already knew what he should do.
He understood the risks.
He understood the opportunity cost.
He had already identified his path.
What he lacked was momentum.
Sometimes people simply need an interaction — a serious conversation with another person — to transform intention into action.
One month after our meeting, Jerry began his new career path.
He later wrote the thank-you email that prompted the younger consultant’s question.
I did not say anything magical.
The interaction simply created the action.