Last August I started this blog, thanks to the encouragement of my favorite blogger and all-around mensch George Tannenbaum.
I’ve written slowly, if not steadily, and, lo and behold, this is my 100th post.
I haven’t promoted it much besides the occasional tweet. (I still can’t bring myself to do the auto-triple Facebook/LinkedIn/Twitter post.)
Yet I’ve always been tickled when far flung readers start following. So perhaps I’ll try the triple on this one.
Anyway, this post, like the 99 that came before it, is below me.
I mean, aren’t there self-promotion slaves who can take my white board ruminations and write these for me? I am scraping the upper levels of middle management now.
I kid. But over the past few months, I’ve heard this complaint again and again.
I met an interaction designer who doesn’t “do wireframes.” He’s a storyteller.
I’ve heard three different writers lament that some assignment was “below them.”
And I’ve heard through the rumor mill that we didn’t win a pitch because the clients asked for something small and perhaps unglamorous and we went in and told them how we did so much more. They were concerned we wouldn’t do what they asked and chose someone else.
I think it’s all part of the guru-ization of the business, if not the world.
How else can we explain job titles that obscure what people actually do?
Everyone wants to be a guru. No one wants to do the work.
At the risk of sounding like the Man, I tell my charges that this is kinda what the job is. More often than not, it will be below you. Your job is to do the best job you possibly can. And complain about it later, preferably over a rare Tunisian lychee martini spiked with three drops of bone marrow extracted from a dying albino llama.