I took a little time to read Anthropic’s report on “recursive self-improvement.”
The strongest impression I left with is how unprepared I feel to evaluate either the claims or the implications the authors are drawing.
But I was struck by two sentences that intersect the world of my expertise: meaningful work.
“Work (and life) ran on a gift economy between humans. ‘Can you help me get this script running?’…Each one created a little debt, a little mutual awareness. [Claude is] faster, it creates zero debt, but each of these is a lost bid for human collaboration.”
and
“More intelligence…can’t turn a stranger into an old friend in a weekend.”
So much of career satisfaction comes down to the people we work alongside, the joy (and frustrations) of collaborating to solve hard problems, and the growth that accompanies compromise, challenge, and even conflict with others who see things differently.
And practically speaking, the majority of opportunities come from folks advocating for us in rooms we’re not in. Folks who trust us and want to see us succeed.
It’s not news that collaboration is HARD. Those of us who are married know this. So do those of us who have colleagues, or who have been on athletic teams or done group projects. Being patient with others, and having them show grace to us, putting aside what we might rather do in order to help them, a mentor who invests or encourages us beyond what we think we deserve. These moments are where loyalty comes from. The quirks and the compromises and the surprises are why we care about specific people. They make relationships rewarding. But rewarding is not the same as efficient.
Trust between humans is earned through friction. AI replaces that friction with convenience and ease. It’s mostly a good trade in a lot of work arenas, but it’s worth some scrutiny.
Clients come to me when they’re unhappy. Many of them have been paralyzed, mentally circling, or ‘rage-applying’ for a while without making the kind of progress they want. My goal is ALWAYS to help them make headway with all deliberate speed.
And, you can’t speed-run trust. No matter what tools you use. Maybe that’s why LinkedIn feels so terrible right now, as misguided people are trying to use agents to post and comment their way to a fantastic reputation. Volume doesn’t trick me into thinking you’re sincere or insightful.
Sometimes clients hope that I’ll have a magic secret, point them to a special hidden setting that will get their resume through an AI review, or just tell them what job will make them happy. I’d be a lot richer if I were willing to pretend I could.
Because so many of my clients are in demanding jobs, getting more done in less time is a goal we share. But I can’t help someone I don’t know, and clients need a place where they can dump out their messy, half-formed truths without judgment. So the foundational steps where I walk clients through their values, their work biography, and the way they see their options and possibilities, can’t be rushed or eliminated without a loss of insight.
And unfortunately, clients’ attention to their network can’t be ignored, rushed, or replaced by AI tools, either. You can’t ‘pick someone’s brain’ over coffee and emerge with an advocate or champion who will rush your resume into the hiring manager’s hands — no matter how cleverly you word your invitation or thank-you note. (If this happens to you, I urge you to consider it a very red flag; you may have found a person who is undiscerning, or a work environment that is desperate, and neither of those are likely to be long-term fits.)
This doesn’t mean that we are powerless to control or influence the trust and reputation we build. On the contrary, there are specific and actionable things we can do to tend to the relationships that matter most to career satisfaction. A lot of the coaching I do is helping clients plan and sequence actions that impact the breadth, depth, and warmth of their professional network. Trust isn’t something vague; there are precise components that we can look at to recognize and repair possible barriers to trust. Advocacy isn’t something we’re entitled to, but by asking “what would need to be true for this person to want to recommend me enthusiastically?” we can determine a strategy that avoids the triple threats of magical thinking, schmoozy transactional pretense, or detached cynicism and avoidance.
Benjamin Franklin knew the bonding impact of favors on relationships. Asking for things, and doing things for others, makes us feel closer, and makes us feel valued. It’s deeply uncomfortable, sometimes. And it’s slow. Much easier to ask Claude. But you can’t build trust and find your best collaborators without asking for help, and offering help, in little and big ways.
