Why do we treat employees like mercenaries and expect them to act like missionaries?
Among the business intelligentsia, much has been made about the dichotomy between missionaries and mercenaries.1 The general take is unsurprising—we prefer missionaries (driven by a purpose larger than themselves) to mercenaries (driven primarily by self-interest). From middle management to the C-suite, the hope and aspiration is to inspire individuals to behave like missionaries.2 Employees who can be shown the mission, embrace it, execute it, and ultimately inform it, are those whose value vastly outpaces their compensation. And yet, all too often, we assemble structures that all-but-ensure the type of mercenary behavior we claim to be inferior.
The Long Game
Building great things requires a long-term, altruistic disposition. The money-driven startup-CEO accepts the first lucrative exit option presented rather than continuing to build for their customers, their employees, and their communities. The hard-hearted corporate mercenary hunts bonuses and muscles away their internal competition. Or more succinctly, in the words of Paul Graham, “mean people fail.”
Longtermists and authors like Simon Sinek often refer to the “infinite game.” Certainly, encouraging employees to adopt a long-term lens rather than the myopic pursuit of immediate financial incentives is also oft-discussed. Equity plans are generated with this intention, though one might question what that equity is actually worth (and consider a better equity plan).
A mercenary behaves as though their current role is inherently temporary, a short-term step en route to larger titles and compensation packages elsewhere. They must demonstrate the sophistication and complexity of tasks that might seem impressive to future employers. They must raise their compensation to ensure that the next employer offers a boost from a higher initial baseline. Mercenaries will compete amongst themselves for the opportunities and remunerations that ensure a prime placement on the escalator of status and prestige.
This, in turn, raises a broader question about how we reward missionaries and mercenaries alike.
Reward
If missionary behavior is desirable, rewards should reflect that priority. Missionaries are looking for non-monetary rewards in addition to competitive compensation. They care about the company’s direction, its broader impact, and their ability to help steer that progression. They will look to improve upon the status quo, challenging their managers, and pushing themselves and those around them to grow. In turn, their incentives need to align with the mission. Conveniently, the ultimate result of this alignment is greater returns for both the company and everyone its mission serves.
A mercenary hopes for incentives that resemble traditional OKRs. If bonuses and promotions are accessible through easily-defined completion of tasks, shipping features, and other incremental results, they’ll do exactly that. We shouldn’t be surprised when such behavior leads to excessive bike-shedding and gaming of the system. After all, we asked for that behavior.
Aspiring to Obsolescence
A technical product manager and I were discussing his recent two-week vacation. After building reliable structures for his team, he was thrilled to notice that work continued productively in his absence. This, naturally, raised the question, “wait, if the structures are working, maybe I’m unnecessary?” In turn, this missionary-minded product manager quickly realized any number of other opportunities to add value if day-to-day managerial responsibilities could be safely curtailed.
When the war ends, the mercenary is no longer paid.3
If completing a task well enough that you are no longer necessary to add features and maintain the systems is an existential career risk, mercenaries will ensure this never occurs.4 Missionaries will make themselves obsolete gladly… in an environment where there is a reward for advancing the company in this manner and a growth path is actually available.
Mercenaries must create their next task, lest they prove themselves to be expendable. The war must be under control, but never won.
Commodification
Alas, far too often, we treat employees like mercenaries (and then act surprised when they behave accordingly). Mercenaries are largely interchangeable, coin-operated components of systems. They don’t transform businesses, nor proselytize its values to other employees. They implement, execute, and move along when the next opportunity arrives, then we activate recruiting firms to backfill the position, and the cycle repeats.
Employees are not commodities. Plenty of digital ink has been spent on the topic of “10x developers,” implying, if nothing else, software engineers are not interchangeable parts. Companies that inspire missionaries grow not only their revenues, but their people. Those employees’ productivity increases exponentially with their tenure. The expected value of a great hire, for a rapidly-scaling entity with a compelling mission might yield not the proverbial 10x dev, but a 1,000x employee.
1000x
The question you might feel compelled to ask yourself is “am I a 1000x employee?” But in fact, a far more relevant question is “am I working for a company where 1000x impact is possible?” A large, bureaucratic, siloed corporation with narrowly-defined responsibilities, sclerotic systems, and cumbersome, ill-defined career paths assuredly cannot create, nor support a 1000x employee. At best, they’ll help squeeze a little extra ROI from next quarter’s budget. Useful to be sure, but hardly 1000x compared to the average replacement-level mercenary.
Where are 1000x hires possible? They are possible where folks who steelman opposing arguments are heard and praised, not chastised. They are possible where an individual contributor might have a path to genuine influence without feeling the need to amass subordinates to manage in pursuit of higher pay scales and prestige.
They are possible where amidst the closing of tickets and the attending of meetings lies the opportunity to build products that serve a broader mission.
People who “get it”
Paul Graham wrote about the nature of “good taste,” arguing that the ability to distinguish the quality of art is not entirely subjective. A 1000x employee has the not-entirely-subjective capacity to note when a product will delight and empower its users (like ElectricSMS, which we built, and sold to ReCharge for $6M cash and an undisclosed pile of equity) and when it will encumber, manipulate, and diminish agency (like all too many dark patterns in the wide world of FAANG).
If you are curious about your own capacity to become a 1000x employee, ask yourself a few questions. Firstly, what are you profoundly curious about? What insights and perspectives do you bring to the table that are uniquely your own? Secondly, where are you now? Are you riding a potential rocket ship in need of fuel or a cargo ship that barely can maneuver its immense mass? Thirdly, if that rocket ship did accelerate skyward, what might you be able to add along its journey? And finally, will you have the opportunity to make that contribution?
In the day-to-day operations of your own (finite) life, are you a missionary or a mercenary?
1 Wharton, Silicon Valley, and of course, HBR all have their takes on the matter
2 Perhaps this is why titles like “tech evangelist” are becoming increasingly prevalent. Or perhaps this simply reads better on LinkedIn than “person who speaks and writes about tech.” Come to think of it, maybe I should list myself as “guy who writes and rhymes about tech…” but I digress.
3 This is why we write pieces entitled “No Such Thing As Short-Term Value.”
4 The eponymous and aptly-named “Shirky Principle” explains that “institutions will try to preserve the problem to which they are the solution.” This might have some short-term benefits to the institution, but impedes the development of agency-increasing products that improve exponentially over time.