engineers

The building of things scratches an essential itch for engineers. It’s why they became engineers in the first place. When they were six, their Dad handed them two boards, a nail, and a hammer and they started whacking. BLAM BLAM BLAM. Even with the nail awkwardly bent in half, the wood was suddenly and magically bound together: a thing was built. At that moment, this junior engineer’s brain excreted a chemical that instantly convinced them of the disproportionate value of this construction. This is the best wood thing in the world because I built it. And then they looked up from their creation and pleaded, “Dad, I really need more nails”.

Dad handed them three more nails, showed them where to hold the hammer, and demonstrated how to hit the nail. More whacking. BLAM BLAM BIFF. This time the nail wasn’t bent, this time on the last hit the nail slid effortlessly into the wood. This engineer in training had now experienced two essential emotions: the joy of creation and the satisfaction of learning while gaining experience, perfecting the craft.

Engineers are wired to learn how to build stuff well, and as they continue to do that someone eventually thinks it’s a good idea to promote them to become managers. These new managers initially believe the essential skills of building that made them successful as engineers will apply to the building of people, and they don’t. It’s their experience that matters.