I recently applied for a new job in my division and during one segment of the nearly five-hour interview, someone asked me: “What motivates you to be successful in a job?”
I could have said something about the impact I’m making or feeling accomplished at the end of the day, but the first thing that came to mind and shortly thereafter flew out of my mouth was this: financial incentives.
The position to which I applied is more of a sales role. Employees receive a financial incentive package based on sales at the end of the year, so my answer wasn’t terribly off-base, and hopefully not off-putting (though would men worry about that perception?). But it still surprised me, and, as I’m beginning to realize, my response was just not true.
When recounting the question to a friend, she said “I don’t think it’s about the money for you. It’s about what it represents, and the stability it brings.”
I wholeheartedly agree. No matter how much money I make, I’ll still shop at thrift stores, appreciate the thrill of a good deal, and give away money as part of our family’s overall financial plan.
The trade off for me, and where earning money starts to get complicated, is that my highest value at work is independence. I value having a flexible schedule, the ability to discern how to allocate my time from day to day, and desire to work independently on projects that are both meaningful to me and impactful for others.
It’s this value that drives me towards freelance work, or some other way to achieve the flexibility I crave. In the past I haven’t found the right niche for my freelance ambitions. But I think that’s in part because I’ve never approached it as a long-term, sustainable option. And as a result, have never given it my all.
Freelance work, whether painting, event planning, or interior design, has always been a “side-hustle” for funding one-off projects, like paying off my student loans well ahead of schedule. It has also given me a way to serve others through my passions.
As we evaluate the way our family spends time and money, I’m trying to determine the balance between making and having enough and pursuing greater incomes at the cost of our time, sanity, and health.
Right now, Mike and I are both pushing in our careers, which leads to us feeling like ships passing in the night.
We’re blessed to have a good support system of babysitters and daycare and family who all come together in a carefully orchestrated plan, allowing Mike and I to work and the kids to have safe, loving care.
But I can’t help feeling like maybe I’m moving in the wrong direction, in pursuing a higher income at a greater cost. There’s got to be a happy medium somewhere, right?
In other words, is more always better?
The job I applied for involves weekly travel and Mike is already working out of town. As I was mulling it over, my brain kept jumping to the possibility of us both being at least an hour away if one of our kids were to get sick, or worse, have an emergency. It’s incorrect to assume that I, as the mother, would be the one have to respond to sick kids and emergencies. But when we made the joint decision for Mike to accept his out of town promotion in a less flexible role, we decided together that in this season, I would be on emergency kid duty.
I know there are couples who do it, both travel for work, but just thinking about the logistics made my head spin!
I firmly believe that if you can’t be happy on one income, a pay raise is not going to make you that much happier.
There are studies that show that people are most happy when they make $75,000 per year, and that the ideal amount to earn for meeting one’s current needs and long-term goals is $95,000. Beyond the $95,000 threshold, higher incomes result in “unhealthy social comparisons and unfulfilling material pursuits.” (Source.)
Ninety-five thousand is not a small amount, but it’s not an entirely unreasonable income for a household with two full-time working professionals to attain. And if you asked me if I were happier having crossed that threshold, I would probably say no, not really. If anything I feel more obsessed with the next benchmark, and more tired by the logistics of keeping it all together.
All of this was swirling in my brain during my MBA economics class one Monday night. We were talking about long-run average costs (LRAC) and how there’s a point in the LRAC curve where a company can reach the Minimum Efficient Scale, meaning the place where current productivities are achieved at the lowest possible cost (I think?).
After you hit the Minimum Efficient Scale, your costs go up along the curve. The steeper the curve, the higher your incentive to stay at your lowest costing, most efficient place.
It dawned on me that sometimes taking more and more promotions comes at a cost, some steeper than others. For example, a higher paying job often requires more professional clothing (which can be found at thrift stores, but there’s a cost involved in acquiring a new wardrobe). More intense jobs also often require more childcare, as an employee may be expected to meet with clients into the evening, or engage in overnight travel.
Higher powered positions may come with an expectation of always being “on,” which makes paying for convenience more likely as one’s energy slumps after a long day at work.
As I sat in econ the other night, struggling to follow calculus equations with more variables than I knew what to do with, I mulled over the idea of reaching Minimum Efficient Scale in my own life.
Did the benefits of a higher salary really outweigh the financial, emotional, and physical cost of giving more to my work, a work I enjoy but don’t always feel incredibly passionate about?
What was the net benefit of our family’s latest salary increase, after paying more for childcare than ever before, eating out more frequently, and generally feeling more frantic overall?
How did working more cost me in time I used to spend painting, writing, volunteering? Being present with my kids?
This is not a push for people, women especially, to pull back from the workforce to maintain a serene homelife or to spend less on food costs, etc. Because pulling back at work only to take on more household chores is definitely not the answer.
And afterall, you can only nickle and dime your way to wealth so far. Even an entirely new wardrobe or lots of outsourcing won’t overshadow a $20,000 raise. Increasing your income almost always brings in more than cutting coupons.
But as I started thinking about the cost of doing more for work, I realized that for me, it might just not be worth it.
It might not be worth it to hustle for extra savings. My Minimum Efficient Scale might be where I’m at right now, with a good enough income and a tentative balance between convenience and intentional, frugal living.
When I look back at past roles I’ve enjoyed, money is often a negligible factor in my job satisfaction. Instead, I like working towards a shared goal, but having the freedom to approach it my own way (and often with a heavy dose of creativity).
As it turns out, my uncertainty about whether or not I truly wanted the position came through in the interview. Which is why the hiring director decided to go with a different candidate. When she told me the news her face looked regretful, whereas I was instantly relieved.
So for now, I’ll keep doing my best in my current role, keeping my head down and my contentment high while I keep working towards a life in harmony. And for now, I’m thankful for an econ lesson for showing me that there’s always another way to live, another way to work. And a cost and benefit to each choice.