Let’s talk about credentials. When do you need them to jump to the next step? And when is it a waste of time and treasure?
One option my clients are often considering is getting training. Sometimes this is a certification program or boot camp. Other times it’s an MBA or a PhD or some other formal graduate degree.
How do you decide whether you to invest in a new credential?
I have a lot of opinions. And this may get salty. I’m generally skeptical about certification and more degrees.
I have chosen not to get certified as a coach. I fear the wrath of my friends and colleagues who have, but I’m not here to judge their choices. I’m here to name with precision what I think they paid for, and why I’m not choosing to pay for it myself.
Let it be known that I love an exam. I have the opposite of test anxiety. BRING IT. I love to study for a test and win the day.
I’ve collected my fair share of credentials. I’ve been a certified Novell Network Administrator, back when that was a thing. I’ve scored in the 99th percentile on the LSAT. I’ve passed two bar exams (and I will whisper to you with a little bit of pride and a whole lot of shame: I kind of enjoyed the process). I’ve been an Accredited Financial Counselor. I’ve been certified as both Level 1 and Level 2 US Sailing Instructor. Gosh. I’ve gotten certificates from the National Coalition Building Institute and the Racial Equity Institute. I’m sure there are more credentials that are now in a junk drawer someplace.
It is enormously tempting to me to sign on for some kind of external credentialing program and become a student again.
I am so very, very comfortable in an environment with a syllabus, a teacher, homework, other students to collaborate and/or compete with, and a high stakes evaluation process. I love to learn, and I enjoy taking tests, and I love meeting and talking to other learners.
And sure, I like prestige and credentials that might make people think I’m smart.
The reason I haven’t sought coaching certification is this: Spending my days immersed in these activities does not make me better at the job of helping clients, or the business tasks of building my practice. And I know this.
It’s a tempting distraction, a defensible pretense of progress that lets me avoid the activities or decisions that don’t come as easily. It substitutes someone else’s judgment and standards for my own.
Undertaking a formal learning path can be lazy and avoidant in a way that LOOKS diligent and responsible.
Anyone who has passed the bar exam, or for that matter, attended a Continuing Legal Education seminar, recognizes that the process of obtaining a credential or maintaining required continuing education credits is a fundamentally different task than the process of being an effective and skilled practitioner. The Accredited Financial Counselor certification process was only tangentially related to what made me helpful as a financial coach and educator. Maybe the medical boards and the Series 7 exams are better. I hope they are, but I kind of doubt it.
What does a credential or a training program do? Here are a few things that occur to me.
- Defines the relevant knowledge base — what’s relevant, what’s not.
- Provides a syllabus for skill development.
- Articulates a specific definition of competence, ostensibly measurable through testing devised by the credential-givers.
- Gathers other learners to go on the journey with you, some of whom may become friends or colleagues.
- Defines ongoing best practices for continuing skill development, e.g. continuing education units.
- Provides a credential, visible to third parties, that commemorates the achievement of some kind of milestones.
- Promising prestige or credibility beyond what the individual could otherwise claim.
- Suggesting that the credential-givers’ methodology is scientific, or grounded in objective truth.
- Implying that the credential exists to protect or inform consumers.
Which of these things matters to you? Is there an alternative way to get them outside of the formal program?
Sometimes, the credential or training program is also designed in a way that enriches the trainers, creates dependence or ongoing revenue streams from those receiving the training, or relies on the labor of those being trained for other purposes. Sometimes a program’s clear priority is service to the learners rather than the teachers or the credentialling apparatus. And of course, sometimes it is a required step on the way to licensure, so debating about the quality or substance of the offering doesn’t mean much to someone who’s decided they need to obtain the license to achieve a particular end.
Here’s where I get strident and start speaking in a loud and ranty voice. I see women seeking out credentialing programs more often than men. They wait to earn external permission from a third party before they offer their expertise to the world, even when not required by a formal licensure process.
This might be a rational response to gender bias in the marketplace, or it might be a version of imposter syndrome, or a socialized reluctance to step forward and show their expertise. Either way, when an accomplished woman tells me she’d like to do something, and her first step will be to sign up for a training program, I get real twitchy. Step into your authority — don’t pay someone else to give it to you.
I always ask: “Will your clients actually care about this credential? Do you need it to begin serving them? Could you start helping without it?”
Looking at the distinct components of a training program, and deciding how valuable each is to you and whether you need the whole bundled program to get the benefits you seek, will help you make a decision with conviction.
If you want the credential to convince others that you are credible, check your assumptions against the marketplace, and your prospective clients.
If you want the credential to convince YOURSELF that you are ready, we want to surface those assumptions, too. Are you paying for confidence? Will you have as much of it as you need at the conclusion of the program?
Although I am not an ICF certified coach, I did pay for a certification program last year. I completed a 12-week program called Navigating Transitions, full of practicums and homework and a whole lot of frameworks, tools, and readings. I emerged with one colleague/business buddy whose wisdom and skill I admire a great deal, a larger library of books, tools and frameworks than I had before, and some more coaching reps under my belt where I got to try some techniques that were new to me before sharing them with clients. I think it was…probably… worth the time and money I sunk into it. This past fall I audited a behavioral economics course at Bowdoin College. It was less than 5% of the cost of the certification program, although it was probably more of a time investment. I never took a test or got a grade. I didn’t even do all of the reading. There’s no credential demonstrating what I learned.
I think the mental frameworks and exposure to ideas and scholarship will improve my coaching in both cases, if I use them thoughtfully and with discernment.
But that’s the thing. Thoughtfulness and discernment are things we can’t outsource to a credentialling program.
So be very intentional about what you’re buying, and whether it increases your skill, thoughtfulness, and discernment. Sometimes it just postpones the time when you take responsibility for that yourself.
If you’re drawn to a credential program right now, it’s worth asking yourself whether you’re solving the right problem. You’re invited to sign up for my Foundations email series, which walks you through the process of building conviction about career decisions (or give me a call and we’ll talk it through).
