#64: Confessions of a creative knowledge worker—thoughts & exploration
Brain-As-A-Service, anyone?
Hi friends,
Hope you all enjoyed my reputation series (part 1/part 2). It is, by far, one of my most popular posts based on reader feedback and engagement. Thank you, and oh, welcome, new subscribers!
As I’ve said in the past, I’ll strive to bring more of those types of writing to your inbox. Actionable, strategic and extremely recommendable—that is the goal, although it’s not the only one.
The other lofty goal I have for this platform is to challenge assumptions, drive conversations and ultimately explore different areas of thinking through my original, opinion-based non-fiction writing. I have to admit this a little bit more challenging.
The high of chasing these elusive goals keep me going. Sure, I don’t always get it right, I fall flat, I lose momentum. It happens.
But every once in a while, I get a hit, or two. And it makes me want to do it again, and again, and again, regardless of the outcome. This is one of those moments.
This topic ongoing reflection in my mind and I’d like to share a piece of it today.
Since I am a big fan of questions, let me kick this off with a few of them:
What does it mean to be a creative knowledge worker?
Why is it so hard to build a long-lasting, thriving career as one?
What makes creative knowledge work different and unconventional in a lot of ways?
Finally, why do we do what we do and for whom (or what) do we do it for? Surely, it has to be beyond the financial gains—there are other ways to do earn money and make a living.
Consider this post as my first of the many attempts to find answers to those questions.
I’m writing this with the assumption that many of you are already aware of what knowledge work means. I just added a new variable [‘creative’] to this category. Dropbox did a wonderful job breaking this down in the simplest way possible.
Anyone can be a creative knowledge worker. It is not the title nor the label that defines a creative knowledge worker but more like their life’s work. I’m here to find out why it probably will take a lifetime to build a worthy portfolio on this.
‘Brain in a jar’ (a mad men reference)
It’s hard to be a creative knowledge worker mainly because you get paid by the quality of your thoughts and the execution of such. You are the brains, the maker, the craftsperson, the problem solver, the magician. Your worth in a capitalist environment is directly connected to the sophistication of your judgment (or lack thereof). It is not usually a good option to sit still and act reactively—at least not if you want to reach a certain level of success, no matter how you’d want to define it.
The competition is brutal and assume it will continue to be. Someone will always be better, smarter and most importantly—hungrier—than you. Without a doubt, this is true. For a reason: there’s enormous upsides to pursuing career paths leveraging your mind as an asset: comfort, privilege, wealth, prestige, intellectual satisfaction etc. Among those, the one thing that really struck with me is scalability.
If you do it right, the influence of your work will be wide, you will have the privilege of helping a lot more people and bring a ton of value. The impact of this to your professional and personal life would be unbelievable.
If you do it right, you will be a different person simply because intellectually, you’ve grown tenfold. I should know— I’ve experienced a taste of this over and over again.
But that is hard. It requires sacrifices, a bit of luck and a pretty solid work ethic. It helps to be naturally smart, obviously but there’s a workaround it if that is a problem: self-awareness and curiosity, two things we all can develop over the course of our lifetime.
Brain-As-A-Service, anyone?
If you want to make anything meaningful with your mind, it takes work. If you want to build a portfolio of meaningful work in your lifetime, it requires a knack for evolution.
Evolving is difficult enough to do on its own, the real test turning that into a habit without losing your stamina. A lot of people call this playing the long game. There’s no assurance of any sort of reward, the wins are cyclical and the losses are almost certainly exhausting.
When you add creativity in all of this, the stakes get infinitely higher. There is a reason why there is a prevalence of imbalance of power that surrounds these kinds of work. It is terribly difficult— impossible, without losing your sanity at times— to make it big in a way that matters. It’s the path for the brave because there is no playbook to it, with the exemption of the more traditional professions in the same category. This is not linear, it’s oftentimes rocky and filled with existential threats—yes, even in a pre-AI world.
This fear of irrelevance or—more specifically—the annihilation of one’s professional craft, does not have to be paralyzing. You can learn to live with it and actually use it to your advantage. The irony is that this also, in theory, will be a self-fulfilling prophecy: the more you protect and value your craft, the more you develop your tenacity, discipline and all the other variables much needed for success, no matter what field or industries you’re in.
Ending thoughts… for now
In creative knowledge work, respect for clear and deep thinking matters a lot. It can be applied to almost anything— from code to writing to design, it is hard to create good work without it. Of course, it comes with a price or a side-effect which is the love for a lifelong pursuit of learning.
Not everyone is cut out for that, most especially when life gets in the way. It gets especially harder when it’s self-initiated, or when progress is not obvious, or when no one is applauding your efforts. There’s a long list of reasons why a lot of people fall off after a certain period of time.
I’m not going to go into that today, maybe next time. Instead, this will end in the same way it started—more questions:
Am I doing things intentionally for all the right reasons?
Is my work useful to at least one person? To a 100? To a million?
What legacy am I leaving just based off the work I’ve shipped—personally/professionally?
Can I honestly say it’s time well spent for everybody (creator and consumer)?
Am I the change I’m seeking in a world that (feels like) is constantly trying to destroy itself?
If I truly believe in creativity, is it obvious in my actions and beliefs?
All good questions I wish I have an answer to in my pursuit of creative knowledge work & understanding it further. This is a rabbit hole I have yet to get out of. I’m not so sure if I want to, truthfully.
\You can expect more of this topic on this platform. I have a feeling I’m only scratching the surface on what this could be.
That’s all I have.
Thank you for reading Working Title,
Nikki
P.S if you liked this, here are my previous essays about knowledge work:
A raw, unedited note from my private notes:
‘Nostalgia is seductive. It is too easy to get distracted by the past. It is oftentimes a source of comfort. But too much of it can be potent.’
Just some of the huge influences to my thinking on this topic:
Pieces of content I can’t stop thinking about:
Elsewhere in the community:
Amy Santee just launched a Resources page with UX Designers and Tech workers in mind - check out her blog and newly-released newsletter, The Jawbreaker Weekly
Kax Uson also shipped this work, congrats Kax! - Open for Opportunities: The Ultimate Guide to a Sustainable Job Search for Product Managers