A Treatise On The World’s Worst Question
I’m guilty of asking it too. We can’t help it, we’re conditioned. I call it, “The Question”. You know the drill- you walk into a gathering of new people. The quiet hum of folksy bluegrass music plays in the background. Gap chinos and dresses mill about holding a glass of boxed wine, smoothing their demeanor and bolstering courage. You retrieve a beverage from the bar and turn to a small group of 40-somethings with excellent haircuts and smell like the pages of a late-90s JCPenny catalog. After the flimsy introduction and sharing your name (Ben) that no one will remember, it comes.
“So Dan, what do you do?”
Dammit. Even among people we know we’re asked, “How’s work going?” No other question in the English language carries more burden of identity, worth, purpose, and ambition.
As men, we are often characterized by our work. The Question is piercing: it stabs at the soul as the asker categorizes the respondent, itemizing them by their industry, salary, and productivity. How a man answers has the capacity to unfairly establish forever their perceived identity and worth of the person. But what about the man who can’t work because of a disability? Is his worth as a person any less than the one who can quickly account for their 9-5? Our answer to this is revealing.
It is an indictment that even youths learn to grapple with. How many of us remember being asked as a tot, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Oh, how I envied those souls that knew with such confidence their career path as a nine-year-old. Surgeon, athlete, business owner, Supreme Court Justice. I just didn’t know the answer. But what if it was never the right question to ask?
I had dreams as a child, sure. But even then I probably could have told you I didn’t really want to be a paleontologist. I just liked being outside digging in the dirt. I had fun playing with my dad’s stationary and notepads from his job, but I didn’t want to work at the Social Security Administration. I liked the idea of teaching, but not for the passion of educating the next generation’s youth. Rather, I liked the idea of having summers off for adventuring. I knew I wanted a family, and I wanted to be a good provider for them. So I did what many young men do when they realize they need a job- I followed in the footsteps of my parents. I went back to school, and got a government job. Now, after stepping away from a 10-year career, I find myself confronted with The Question once more.
Unique circumstances at my agency afforded me the opportunity to walk away with a little bit of a buffer. So here I am, plunking away at a keyboard in hopes that a few of my stitched-together thoughts give birth to something new. But that response doesn’t go over so well at the family reunion.
The Question is posed. I answer, “I recently left a relatively safe career in the federal government to try some writing. It felt like it was an invitation from God so I put it all on the line. I currently have 9 subscribers on Substack, and I’m pretty sure one of them is me. So ya, I’d say things are going pretty well. Do you think they put brown sugar in these baked beans?” People don’t typically have a system for handling this sort of response. So in reality I tend to say something more along the lines of “I’m currently in between jobs”. Which feels a lot like a lie and failure, neither of which is true.
I know of one men’s organization that forbids them from sharing what they do for work when they gather. Instead of sharing their credentials, they refer to their work as their “Chimney Sweep”. Other than the rare wood-burning maintenance professional, this generic term allows for a leveling of the playing field and meets men at where they truly are: Apprentices of the Father. God bless the folks at Become Good Soil.
Here’s my proposal. When we meet someone new, whether under the string lights of a brewery or at Mimi’s Christmas party, what if we asked them something different. What if we asked more meaningful questions like, “What kind of things do you do for fun?” Or, “When is the last time you laughed hysterically?” Or when we talk with a child, why not ask, “What games do you like to play? What do you most enjoy learning about in school?”
These questions I feel get more to the heart of the person. It reveals a piece of their soul; it highlights their most sincere interests. It places value on the person, not on where their W-2 comes from. And for those of us that are in the exploration process, these more engaging questions might even help us learn a little bit more about ourselves and our potential career paths. And you know what? Honestly, I’d rather hear a really great story under string lights than about your job. Even if you can’t remember my name. (It’s Ben).
-Ben Richardson
Restoration Project Grove Member
To read more of Ben’s writing check out his Substack Link.