In today’s fast-paced world, it’s easy to become enamored with the idea of a grand career mission—something that will define our purpose and drive us to make a meaningful impact. But while the pursuit of a mission can be exhilarating, it’s crucial to understand that it’s not something that can be rushed or forced. The truth is, a mission is not something you can simply choose before you’ve built the necessary foundation of skills and experience. Like a scientist reaching the cutting edge of their field, discovering a career mission requires first acquiring valuable career capital—the rare and specialized knowledge that makes you capable of seeing the opportunities that lie just beyond the current frontier of your discipline. This article explores the connection between career capital and the identification of a meaningful mission, using real-world examples to illustrate the power of patience and the importance of building a solid foundation before striving for something bigger.
Mission Failure
Sarah’s experience highlights the critical role that career capital plays in discovering a mission that is both meaningful and sustainable. Driven by a desire to make a significant impact in the world, Sarah left her job as a newspaper editor to pursue graduate studies in cognitive science. She had always been intrigued by the complexities of the human mind and felt that a career in this field could provide her with the intellectual fulfillment she was seeking. With the confidence that comes with age and experience, she took the plunge into graduate school, hoping to carve out a niche for herself in academia.
However, shortly after starting her doctoral program, Sarah found herself overwhelmed by uncertainty. The field of cognitive science was vast and multidimensional, leaving her with too many possible directions to choose from. She was torn between theoretical research, which could expand our understanding of the mind on an abstract level, and applied research, which could have tangible, real-world benefits. Sarah couldn’t decide which path would best align with her interests and, more importantly, with her desire to make an impact. As a result, she found herself struggling with a lack of focus, unsure of where to direct her efforts.
The uncertainty was compounded by the feeling that her peers, whom she viewed as more accomplished and capable, were progressing with ease. This perception of being “behind” only intensified her anxiety. She described her situation as being paralyzed by the sheer number of choices and the belief that she was unable to keep up with the perceived brilliance of others. Instead of feeling inspired by her new academic environment, she felt inadequate, doubting her ability to succeed in the competitive field of cognitive science.
Sarah’s story underscores a crucial lesson: a mission, no matter how compelling, cannot be pursued effectively without the necessary career capital. Career capital is a term used to describe the unique set of skills, knowledge, and experiences that individuals build over time in their fields. Without a solid foundation of career capital, it becomes difficult to identify a clear mission, let alone execute it effectively. Sarah, in her early years as a graduate student, was too far from the cutting edge of cognitive science to have any clear sense of where her work could fit into the larger conversation. Without this foundational experience and understanding, she was unable to define a mission that would drive her work.
The passion and enthusiasm that Sarah brought with her to graduate school were valuable, but they were not enough to sustain her career. Without the deep knowledge and expertise required to discern what was truly possible within her field, Sarah was left floundering. She needed more time to build her career capital—time to immerse herself fully in her discipline, develop expertise, and understand the cutting-edge problems that others in her field were tackling. Once she had accumulated the necessary skills and insights, she would have been in a better position to identify a mission that was both meaningful and achievable. In her case, starting too early without this foundation resulted in frustration, confusion, and a lack of focus.
A similar fate befell Jane, whose story further illustrates the risks of chasing a mission without the proper career capital. Jane had big dreams of creating a non-profit organization that would revolutionize the way people live their lives—promoting health, human potential, and well-being. However, her vision was vague, and her lack of practical knowledge about the nonprofit sector proved to be a significant obstacle. Jane had an admirable goal but no concrete understanding of the sector’s dynamics, no clear strategy for raising the funds she needed, and no established network of supporters or collaborators. Her non-profit venture ultimately faltered because she didn’t have the expertise or resources to support such an ambitious goal.
Like Sarah, Jane was eager to make a difference, but she had not yet acquired the career capital necessary to bring her mission to life. Her idealistic vision, though admirable, lacked the grounding required for it to succeed. Both Sarah and Jane show that missions are not just about passion or desire; they are about having the expertise and resources to create something of lasting value. Until you have built up the career capital needed to understand what is feasible in your field, a mission remains elusive, and without it, you may find yourself lost, as both Sarah and Jane did.
The Baffling Popularity of Randomized Linear Network Coding
The concept of simultaneous discovery in the scientific world offers a valuable insight into the process of identifying a mission in one’s career. At a recent computer science conference in San Jose, California, an interesting event occurred. Four professors from four different universities presented research on the same narrow topic—information dissemination in networks—using the same technique, known as randomized linear network coding. This surprising coincidence of independent discoveries got me thinking about how such synchronicity could occur, and whether it might offer any clues about the process of finding a mission.
This phenomenon of multiple researchers arriving at the same breakthrough independently is not unique to the field of computer science. Throughout history, many major scientific discoveries have been made by different people at nearly the same time. For example, in 1611, four scientists from four different countries independently discovered sunspots. Similarly, the electrical battery was invented twice in the mid-eighteenth century, and oxygen was isolated independently by two scientists in 1772 and 1774. Such instances of simultaneous discovery are not random; they arise because the cutting edge of scientific knowledge is constantly evolving, and once a particular field reaches a certain point, the conditions for new breakthroughs become apparent to multiple researchers working in the same space.
This idea of simultaneous discovery is well documented in the work of science writer Steven Johnson, who explores this phenomenon in his book Where Good Ideas Come From. Johnson explains that multiple discoveries often happen because researchers are all working in the same “adjacent possible,” a term borrowed from biologist Stuart Kauffman. The adjacent possible refers to the space of possibilities that exist just beyond the current frontier of knowledge. As researchers push the boundaries of understanding in their respective fields, new ideas naturally emerge within this space. These ideas are not random but are the inevitable result of ongoing work that gradually expands the cutting edge.
The concept of the adjacent possible can be applied to career missions as well. Just as scientific breakthroughs occur when researchers work at the cutting edge of their fields, a meaningful career mission becomes visible only once an individual has developed enough expertise and understanding to see what is possible. The adjacent possible in a career is where new opportunities and missions lie, waiting to be discovered by those who have accumulated the necessary career capital. If you are not yet at the cutting edge of your field, you will be unable to see the adjacent possible and, consequently, will struggle to identify a mission that is both impactful and achievable.
This parallel between scientific discovery and career missions is an important one. Both require a significant amount of preparation, persistence, and expertise before the breakthrough moment can occur. Sarah’s struggle to identify a mission in cognitive science was partly because she was still far from the cutting edge of her field. Like the researchers at the conference, she hadn’t yet worked her way into the adjacent possible, where the true opportunities in her field were waiting to be discovered. The adjacent possible explains why Sarah was unable to find her mission early in her career—it simply wasn’t visible to her yet. As she continues to build her career capital, she will eventually gain the knowledge and experience necessary to recognize the mission that aligns with her skills and interests.
The Capital-Driven Mission
To understand how career missions emerge, it is crucial to examine the relationship between career capital and the adjacent possible. The adjacent possible is a term coined by biologist Stuart Kauffman to describe the space of possibilities that lie just beyond the current cutting edge of a field. In simple terms, it is the realm where new ideas and breakthroughs are waiting to be discovered—ideas that can only become apparent once a certain amount of progress has been made in a particular discipline.
In the context of a career, the adjacent possible represents the space where your mission lies. But like scientific discoveries, finding a mission requires more than just enthusiasm or a desire to make an impact. It requires a deep understanding of your field, which can only come from years of hard work, learning, and acquiring valuable career capital. Career capital refers to the rare and valuable skills that individuals build over time through focused effort. This is the foundation upon which a meaningful mission can be built.
Sarah’s struggle to find a mission in her early graduate school years illustrates the gap between where she was in her career and the adjacent possible. As a fresh graduate student, Sarah was far from the cutting edge of cognitive science. She had yet to gain the depth of knowledge and expertise required to identify a viable mission in her field. Without career capital, she was left searching for a direction, unable to see what was possible in her discipline. Her lack of focus wasn’t a failure of vision but rather a failure of timing. She had not yet reached a level of mastery where she could recognize the opportunities that were available in the adjacent possible.
Had Sarah spent more time building up her expertise, gaining experience, and immersing herself in the complexities of cognitive science, she would eventually have been able to survey the adjacent possible and identify a mission that aligned with her growing understanding of the field. But because she was still in the early stages of her career, she was unable to see the potential directions her work could take. Her frustration was a direct result of trying to find a mission before she had accumulated the necessary career capital to truly understand what was possible.
Similarly, Jane’s attempt to launch a non-profit organization without the relevant career capital was doomed to failure for the same reason. She lacked the deep understanding of the non-profit sector required to create a sustainable and impactful organization. Jane’s vision was too vague and idealistic, and without the proper skills and knowledge, she struggled to turn her ideas into reality. Like Sarah, Jane was eager to make an impact, but without career capital, she was unable to see the adjacent possible in her field. As a result, she ended up floundering, unable to create a meaningful mission that could sustain her efforts.
The important lesson here is that a career mission doesn’t simply appear overnight. It is something that becomes visible only once you have built up a significant amount of career capital. Just as scientific breakthroughs occur once researchers reach the cutting edge of their fields, career missions are discovered when you have accumulated the necessary knowledge, skills, and experience to see what is possible in your field. If you try to define your mission too early, before you have acquired enough expertise, you are unlikely to succeed. Instead, focus on gaining the career capital that will enable you to understand what is truly possible in your discipline. Once you have reached the cutting edge, your mission will become apparent.
Pardis Sabeti’s career offers a perfect example of this process. Pardis didn’t rush to define her mission from the outset. Instead, she focused on building her career capital over many years, honing her skills in genetics, medicine, and computational biology. Only once she had accumulated enough expertise and experience did her mission—using computational genetics to fight ancient diseases—become clear. Pardis’s journey demonstrates the importance of patience and persistence in building the career capital needed to identify and pursue a mission.
In short, a career mission is not something you can define at the outset. It is the natural outcome of years of focused work and expertise. By building your career capital first, you position yourself to discover a mission that is both meaningful and achievable. Without this capital, you are likely to find yourself like Sarah and Jane—eager to make an impact but struggling to find a direction that is both feasible and sustainable. Focus on developing your career capital, and your mission will eventually reveal itself.
Pardis’s Patience
Pardis Sabeti’s career provides an insightful example of the power of patience when it comes to finding a meaningful mission. Pardis didn’t set out with a clear mission from the very beginning. Instead, her journey was marked by a series of shifts in focus as she explored different fields, from mathematics to biology to medicine. What set Pardis apart was her willingness to take the time to immerse herself in each of these fields, gradually building up the career capital needed to identify a mission that would define her career.
In high school, Pardis was captivated by math, but a biology teacher she admired sparked an interest in biology. When she arrived at MIT, she faced the difficult decision of choosing between math and biology. She eventually decided to pursue biology, a decision that led her down the path toward medical school. But even after she began her studies at MIT, Pardis wasn’t immediately certain about her career path. She perceived herself as someone who cared deeply about people and thought that becoming a doctor was her calling.
However, her journey took another turn when she became intrigued by the idea of studying infectious diseases in Africa. She shifted her focus yet again, this time combining her interest in genetics with the emerging field of infectious disease research. Pardis’s willingness to explore these different areas, rather than rushing to commit to a single path, gave her the freedom to discover new opportunities and interests that she might not have encountered otherwise.
Pardis’s path continued to evolve during her time at Oxford University, where she focused on biological anthropology, which was essentially genetics under a different name. She didn’t rush into a final decision about her career; instead, she continued to explore different avenues, gaining experience and expertise along the way. Even when she returned to Harvard to earn her MD, she wasn’t yet ready to give up her interest in research. During her medical studies, she continued her PhD research in computational genetics, further deepening her expertise and expanding her career capital.
It was during this period of patient exploration and accumulation of career capital that Pardis’s mission began to take shape. Her groundbreaking research on malaria, which combined genetics and computational analysis, led to a publication in Nature in 2002, marking a turning point in her career. The success of this research, coupled with the recognition it garnered, was a key moment when her mission—using computational genetics to understand and combat ancient diseases—became clear. This clarity didn’t come at the start of her career or even during her years of study; it emerged after years of building up her expertise and career capital.
Pardis’s patience in building her career capital demonstrates an essential truth: finding a meaningful mission takes time. It requires a long-term commitment to developing expertise in a particular area and the ability to adapt to new opportunities as they arise. Rather than rushing to define her mission, Pardis allowed her interests to evolve and her skills to grow, gradually positioning herself to discover a mission that would define her career. Her success is a testament to the power of patience and the importance of career capital in the process of finding a meaningful mission.
Pardis Sabeti’s journey underscores the importance of taking the time to build your career capital before trying to define your mission. By focusing on gaining deep expertise in your field, you can eventually uncover a mission that is both impactful and achievable. It’s a process that requires patience, persistence, and the willingness to allow your interests and skills to evolve over time. Only after this foundation is built can you recognize the mission that will drive your career for years to come.
Conclusion: The Art of Mission
Sarah and Jane were both eager to pursue missions but lacked the necessary capital to sustain them. Their stories serve as stark reminders that mission-driven work requires not just enthusiasm but the resources, knowledge, and patience to make it viable. The art of mission involves suppressing the temptation to seek grand, world-changing goals too early. Instead, it requires a commitment to small, incremental progress, much like Pardis’s own methodical journey.
In the end, the mission doesn’t come first—it is the natural outcome of years of focused work, learning, and expertise. By following this path, you increase the chances of discovering a mission that is not only meaningful but also sustainable, driving your career forward in ways you never could have anticipated at the outset.