I don’t think of my career coach colleagues as “competition.” There are enough people struggling to feel good at work that there’s plenty of business for all.
And conversations can get personal, so I recommend to every prospective client that they talk to other coaches to find the person whose approach will resonate.
But I am competitive, and I do have a driven streak. That part of me is constantly evaluating my skills, value, and usefulness, and pushing me to sharpen each one.
Here are the three main competitors who might be worth considering for career coaching.
- A lamppost.
- A library.
- A robot.
Let me explain.
The lamppost: Imagine a smart person standing beside a lamppost for an hour, explaining their challenge, how they come to find themself in this situation, and what they see as their options for getting out of it.
The lamppost is an excellent listener. It never interrupts. It doesn’t jump in and try to diagnose or solve. It’s not afraid of an awkward silence. The lamppost won’t default to cheery encouragement, or shy away from awkward or unflattering conclusions.
A smart person who was willing to be honest with the lamppost would leave that hour a whole lot clearer and smarter than they entered it.
I have a lot to learn from the lamppost and I’m constantly working on the parts of myself that fall short of the lamppost’s listening skill. Silence and “tell me more” are almost always better than my impulse to talk.
Luckily for me, clients seem averse to seeking career advice from lampposts. If you know what to talk about, a lamppost could be a real help.
Right now, my edge over the lamppost is that I bring a sequence and structure to conversations that pulls out the important bits.
The library: This is probably self-explanatory. The accumulated wisdom of humankind about how to flourish, how to build relationships, how to accept oneself, how to navigate institutional politics and influence, how to manage up or down, and just about everything else a person could want to get better at is available to everyone, right now, for free.
As you know, I read more than most people, and I’ll never come near the knowledge and wisdom of the library. You could ask a friendly reference librarian where to start on a topic, spend an hour browsing a shelf, sit down in a carrel with a stack of books, and compare their tables of contents to get an overview. Then you could pick one or two books for a deeper dive.
A smart person willing to spend an hour in a library would leave that hour a whole lot more informed and confident than they entered it.
On the other hand, there are a lot of dumb books out there making false promises. I’ve read a lot of them. My edge over the library is that I can curate the best bits from the best books and save clients the slog of trying to sort the good from the bad.
The robot: Of course I mean one of our AI LLM friends. I’m aware of the studies that rate AI responses as more empathetic and caring than human psychotherapists. And AI can give that lamppost a run for its money when it comes to listening. It can get you probably 80% of the efficacy of that hypothetical visit to the library as an approach to get familiar with the basics of a discipline and the roadmap of how you might begin to build a knowledge base.
I think a robot career coach could be a very formidable colleague. I’m trying to train my own personal robot coach, and I see glimmers of something wonderful — and also some real drawbacks.
For now, the robot’s eagerness to please limits its value as a coach.
One of the most valuable things I offer is the willingness to push back on clients, or to redirect them to something I think they’re avoiding or overlooking. Coaching is different than friendship. I have to both believe my clients and question them, encourage them and challenge them. Robots will get better at this, but it’s not their default setting. My edge over the robot is that I will say hard things that I think you need to hear.
I’ll never be as wise as the library, or as good a listener as a lamppost. I like to think I’m as empathetic as a robot, but I trust the science and recognize that’s probably not true either.
This can be a little bit demoralizing on some days.
For now, what saves me is that my clients aren’t inclined to talk to lampposts. They don’t want to sort through all the books in the library or lay bare their career goals to a robot.
I am grateful about these norms, but I don’t see them as true moats protecting my business from these very real, very useful alternatives.
Instead, I’ve been reflecting on some characteristics that I think are genuinely distinctive:
- I’m the most curious person I know, and
- I’m good at liking people.
I want to know you, and I will see the best in you.
I want to know the complete and full you, not just the you that you’re currently presenting at work and at home. Not just your past you, but the future you that you’re not even sure you can create. Not just the impressive you, but the weird parts that you haven’t figured out how to integrate.
I want to help you visualize and describe that self — and when you do, I’m going to be rooting for you to bring it to life. Clients tell me that my belief in them has helped them believe in themselves.
Whatever wisdom and intelligence I’ve accumulated is pointed at that goal: understanding who you are, and helping you see places in the world to use your gifts.
I will never get sick of doing that; it’s the most rewarding interaction I have discovered yet. I’ve gotten good at it over the years, and I’ll be trying to get better for the rest of my life.
The lamppost, the library, and the robot aren’t curious. And they won’t like you back. There’s something real and affirming that happens in relationships that these three competitors can’t offer.
Yet.
