Is a Scarcity Mindset Keeping You From a Job You Love?
When I was younger, I spent a lot of sleepless nights worrying about the “what ifs” instead of focusing on “what is.”
I've been a legal recruiter for the past 37 years. Earning a living on a commission basis, combined with the ups and downs of the economy and legal market, means that there are a lot of aspects of what I do that are beyond my control. I can do everything right and not make a placement. Intellectually, I understood all of that when I embarked on my career. However, accepting that reality was hard-won.
It wasn't until I read the words "scarcity mindset" that everything fell into place. I was viewing the world with a scarcity mindset, and it was making me miserable.
It wasn't until I changed my mindset that I actually started finding joy in my work. More importantly, I can use what I have learned—both personally and through 37 years of working with attorneys—to help others identify when they are falling prey to the scarcity mindset and to make better career decisions.
What is a scarcity mindset?
A scarcity mindset is a deeply held belief that there is never enough, and that there will never be enough. For some people that means money. For others it means time. No matter how much money they make or how hard they work, it never feels like enough.
People who have a scarcity mindset often struggle with feelings of inadequacy—not being good enough if they aren't the best— or feeling like they don't deserve a seat at the table. Professional accomplishments don't necessarily make those feelings disappear. You can have an impressive resume, diplomas on the wall, years of experience, and still question if you are "enough."
The opportunity costs of the scarcity mindset
For many of us, scarcity thinking is connected to experiences and messages we absorbed long ago—sometimes based on our own experiences, and sometimes on the experiences of the people who raised us.
We may understand where some of our fears come from, without recognizing how much those fears continue to influence our decisions.
Maybe you are a First Gen who watched your parents struggle to keep you fed, housed, and clothed. Or maybe, like me, you were raised by a First Gen mother who grew up very poor, and you're afraid to take money out of your savings account. Maybe your dad lost his job and couldn't get another job. Maybe you had to keep changing schools when you were growing up.
No matter what your economic situation is today, early life experiences can continue to influence the way you evaluate risk. The important question is whether you're making a fact-based decision—or allowing an old fear to decide for you.
Here are some examples of fear-based decisions:
You stay in a job that makes you miserable because you are afraid that the next job might be worse.
You only focus on how much a job pays, without taking into account whether or not the job is a good fit for you.
You save up for a down payment but don't buy a home because you're afraid that you'll lose your job, and you won't be able to pay the mortgage.
You have trouble saying no to being staffed on more cases/deals, even though you are already billing 2,200 hours a year.
How do you recognize when fear is influencing your career decisions, and what can you do about it?
Our minds constantly replay what we saw and what we heard when we were growing up. This is especially true when we face big life decisions: changing jobs, getting married, having children, or buying a house.
In my work with attorneys, I've seen how quickly the "what ifs" can take over when someone is considering a career move. Even when an opportunity checks the boxes they've told me matter most, fear can make them question whether taking a chance is worth it.
Let's address some of the fears that can surface when you're considering a new opportunity:
Change is scary.
You like to be in control.
You'll be the new kid on the block.
Your friends and family are doubting your decision.
You believe everything that you think.
Change is scary
Throughout your life, you have probably been told this countless times. Sometimes with love, sometimes with anger, sometimes with empathy, and sometimes with frustration. Some people have an easier time with change than others. However, we thrive when we make changes in our careers, and in our personal lives.
Discomfort with change isn't a reason to avoid making a change. Staying somewhere simply because it is familiar has an opportunity cost too.
Instead, when you're contemplating a job change, ask yourself: Am I identifying a legitimate problem with this opportunity I’m being offered, or am I reacting to the discomfort of doing something unfamiliar?
There is a significant difference between "This opportunity isn't right for me" and "I'm afraid to leave what I know."
You like to be in control
Remember when you were a summer associate who didn't know which way was up? Remember how grown up the attorneys who came to your law school to interview you for your 2L summer associate position seemed?
I don't know many people who enjoy being out of their depth. However, the more you do something, the more expert you become. Think of how much more quickly you can crank out a memorandum than you could a year ago. Think about how much more client contact you are getting. Think of what you are learning, and have learned, from your mentors.
Ask yourself the following:
Are my partners letting me play a bigger role on my matters?
Am I still feeling intellectually challenged, or could I do my work in my sleep?
Am I still learning and expanding my skill set—or has the learning curve flattened?
If you are feeling like the learning curve is flattening, it probably is. Being comfortable and being fulfilled aren't necessarily the same thing. Sometimes being willing to feel like the "newbie" again is exactly what creates the next stage of professional development.
If you change jobs, you'll be the new kid on the block
Yes, and...?
There are a lot of benefits to being the new member of the team, whether you're an associate or a partner.
First, the new firm sees you as the accomplished attorney you actually are because they didn't know you back in the day.
Second, they have a vision for you and your career that perhaps your current firm does not.
Ask yourself this question: "If I knew then what I know now, would I have accepted my 2L offer?"
If your answer is "no," that's information worth paying attention to. It doesn't automatically mean you should leave your current job. But it does mean you should ask whether your current firm still offers what you want or need at this stage of your career.
A new firm may offer the opportunity to be seen for the attorney you are today, rather than the attorney who arrived years ago.
Your friends and family are doubting your decision
No matter how old we get, we want our friends and family to support our decisions, and to see things the way that we do. When they don't, the scarcity mindset can quickly surface, making us doubt ourselves.
What if the hours are worse than my current job? What if I can't meet their expectations? What if I get fired?
Let's suppose that you have received a job offer for your proverbial dream job: You'll have more time with your kids. You'll be doing the type of work that you want to do. You'll be paid the money that you want, and you'll even be able to WFH three days a week. Your due diligence has confirmed that the job is everything that you have been looking for, and you’re ready to accept.
Your parents are worried that you're giving up the job security that you have earned at your current firm, despite knowing how miserable you are, and how much you dread going to work.
You start doubting your decision to change jobs. You haven't given notice, and your parents are piling on their doubts. Now you feel like if you do what's right for you, your parents will think less of you.
Admittedly, it's a lousy feeling when we think that we are disappointing our parents. But the people who love us are sometimes unable to separate their experiences and fears from our experiences. Their concerns are worth hearing, but they shouldn't automatically become our concerns.
Ask yourself: Are they pointing out facts that I have overlooked, or are they uncomfortable with a risk that I have already carefully evaluated?
Ultimately, they don't have to go to your job every morning. You do.
You believe everything that you think
Throughout the years, whenever I am preparing my candidates for their job interviews, I always tell them to "trust your gut." Easy to say, but not always easy to do.
Lawyers are trained to look at a situation from different angles in order to anticipate what the other side is going to do. This is great when you're on the clock. It's not so helpful when your mind starts running in circles every time you have to make a decision in your personal life.
I still believe that your instincts matter. But when you're making a significant career decision, don't rely on instinct alone. Test what you're feeling against the facts.
If your gut is telling you not to take an opportunity, ask yourself why. Did you uncover something during the interview process that concerns you? Is the compensation wrong? Is the work different from what you want to do? Did you see signs that the culture isn't a fit? Those are facts worth considering.
But "What if I fail?" isn't a fact. Neither is "What if the next job is worse?"
The goal isn't to eliminate fear. It's to recognize when fear is making the decision for you.
Once upon a time, the scarcity mindset may have helped you survive. Now that you have survived, it's time to look at the world through a different set of lenses in order to thrive.
When you change your thoughts, you change your actions. When you change actions, you change your outcomes. When you change your outcomes, you change your life.
The next time you're considering a career opportunity, ask yourself one question:
Am I responding to the facts in front of me—or to a fear I've been carrying for years?
You may ultimately decide that staying exactly where you are is the right choice. But make sure you're choosing to stay for the right reasons—not simply because you’re afraid to leave.
