Help Isn’t Coming, You’re The Help

You may have already figured this out, but part of coming of age is realizing that help isn’t coming; you’re the help.

Help Wasn’t Coming

The year was 2014. I was a few years into my career. The physical traits of a child were gone but I still hadn’t shaken all the little boys’ beliefs.

There was this work project I’d been working on that I knew would save us a ton of money. It excited me, and I was determined to will it into existence. Yet to get it approved, management would need to share my vision as well.

Bringing in a senior engineer as a credible project sponsor seemed like the logical next step; a strong sponsor might raise the project’s status and ease the path to approval from on high—smarter not harder. I still hadn’t built my brand.

There were two senior engineers who could sponsor and so I attempted to enlist them. I explained the project details to both and could tell they supported both me and the project. But I could also tell that the project’s gritty details and nuances weren’t etched in their bones as they were mine. Perhaps rightfully so as this was my baby. They hadn’t thought about this on evenings and weekends. They had no allegiance to the thing other than what I’d asked them to pledge.

These creeping doubts of their commitment muddied the water. I imagined them behind closed doors unable to artfully respond to management’s pushback on key details. Would my sponsors have the passion & project fluency to push for it like I would?

Increaseth agency and be the adult or stayeth the child?

My fork-in-the-road moment triggered a recalculation. A senior engineer’s help wasn’t foolproof. Yet if I took charge, my lesser status and organizational knowledge was a risk too.

Help Was Coming

We all had childhoods, where we depended on help. At one time, help was always coming, and we expected it. You needed others to feed you, teach you, drive you, coach you, protect you, etc. Getting help was the default.

So we all naturally start life as low agency, and rightfully so. And then eventually the help slows down and essentially goes away. It’s a transition that takes years instead of being any one moment.

Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained

At some point in life, you have the insight that all adults were children once. And you realize that, willingly or unwillingly, somewhere along the way they grew up (or many did anyways). This was that somewhere for me.

“And I want to remember it, I never want to forget it. I never want to forget. And then I realized like I was shot, like I was shot with a diamond. A diamond bullet right through my forehead. And I thought of the genius of that the genius of that, the genius. The will to do that.” - Colonel Kurtz, Apocalypse Now

After carefully considering both paths, I knew I didn’t want to “lose” with someone else was in the game, when I could be out there instead. I’d lead the charge. Help wasn’t coming, I was the help.

This cognitive leap is both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, taking on more responsibility reduced dependence, which I would find freeing. On the other, more responsibility means more work, more accountability and possibly a stressful period of constantly overcoming.

A Project with Two Masters Starves

I went on to set up the necessary meetings and spread the good word, utilizing sponsors where I could. I made sure to communicate my vision. It took several iterations of meetings to get management to come around, perhaps rightfully so. In the end, the project was approved and funded.

By being the front man for my ideas, it put me in the room where decisions would be made. I was able to chart, firsthand, uncharted territory (for me), which would later help me navigate the organization and its politics for subsequent pitches. These were all unintended favorable consequences of me leading the charge.

As a byproduct of my journey, I came to understand that nobody cares more about your project than you (in psychology this is called the endowment effect) no matter how good it looks. Some people struggle with this and are frustrated when others can’t see how good their baby is. I also eventually learned about the idea of high agency people, who I prefer to resemble.

Although the ultimate lesson for me was: Help wasn’t coming; I was the help.

Author’s Note:

Nathaniel Branden said this is one of the things he hangs up in his counseling rooms (“No one is coming to save me”.

“He who increaseth agency, increaseth sorrow”