Newsletter

You sit down to write about yourself, and the first thing out is "I deliver results." Which is true. It's also what everyone at your level says, right before they reach for "cross-functional leadership" and "driving impact." Don't fight it. The generic version always comes out first. It's the reflex — the shape your work takes after years of being measured on outcomes and never once asked to explain how you actually got them. But your story lives one level down from that sent

"I think I could go the Director route at another big company. But there's a VP role at a startup that's got my attention. And honestly, part of me just wants something smaller where I'm building again." Same person. One breath. Three directions. I hear a version of this almost every week right now, and it never sounds like confusion. It sounds like someone with too many good answers. Every option is real. Every one is genuinely them. So they keep all three alive — a little n

Someone I talked to last week keeps reaching the final round and losing. Every loop, the same feedback: they loved him, they went with someone else. He's clearly capable — that's not the problem. The problem is he's spent a whole career being capable at everything. For years he was the person you handed the messy, cross-functional, no-clear-owner thing to. He'd take it and land it. A mentor once told him a jack of all trades beats a master of one, and he built his career on e

Three final rounds in four months. Each time, genuinely strong feedback. Each time, the offer went to someone else. That's not bad luck, and it's not a skills problem — by the final round, your ability to do the job has already been vetted three times over. What I see with senior Amazonians is a specific pattern. They get to finals constantly. The resume works. The screen works. The early conversations work. And then the last round — the one that should be a formality — is wh

There's a specific kind of paralysis that hits senior Amazon leaders when they start interviewing externally. It's not that they don't know what they've done. They know exactly what they've built, the scale they've operated at, the decisions they've owned. The problem is that at Amazon, they never had to explain it. The system did that for you. Your level, your scope, your org chart position — it all spoke before you opened your mouth. The people you were trying to impress al

The people asking for time on my calendar right now are sharing a familiar pattern, so I'm bringing it here. Senior leaders — Directors, L6s, L7s, Principals — are doing all the recognisable things. Resume updated. LinkedIn refreshed. Applications going out. Coffees and catch-ups happening. And none of it is compounding. Not because the effort is wrong. Because the language you use to describe what you're good at only works inside the company you're trying to leave. About 80%

Last week I ran a small, paid workshop where I pulled up LinkedIn profiles live and gave direct feedback. Nine senior tech professionals. Ninety minutes. Nowhere to hide. Every single one of them had a genuinely compelling story. Real experience. Strong track records. The kind of people who’ve built, launched, and led things that most companies would love to have on their team. But in almost every case, that story wasn’t on the page yet. The profiles weren’t bad. They w

I want to show you something I see constantly. Here’s a LinkedIn headline from a real client (details changed, but the pattern is exact): “GTM Leader | Cross-functional Collaboration | Passionate About Innovation | MBA” You read that and you think... OK? Could be anyone. Could be any level. Could be any company. There’s no reason to click, no reason to reach out, no signal about what this person actually does or why they’re worth talking to. Now here’s what it looked like aft

I've written a lot about LinkedIn profiles in this newsletter. How your profile is a cheat sheet for the people trying to help you. How the language you used inside Amazon doesn't travel outside the building. How most senior people have never actually had to explain what they do to someone who doesn't already have the context. And a lot of you have taken that and done something with it. Updated your headlines. Rewritten your About sections. Tightened up the language. Some of

Last week I talked about the difference between a contact list and an actual network. A few of you replied (thank you — keep doing that), and there was a theme I want to pull on. Most of you have done the work. You’ve had the conversations. You’ve told people what you’re looking for. Great. But here’s what’s happening next, and nobody’s telling you about it. ​ After that conversation, the person you spoke to runs into someone at a team offsite, or they’re in a Slack thread wh

You can usually tell when someone is serious about changing roles. They’re not dabbling. They’re not “just looking.” They’ve updated their resume, started conversations, maybe even landed a few interviews. And yet — progress is slow. Or inconsistent. Or weirdly fragile. This is the point where most people assume the problem is tactical. I need better interview prep. ​​ I need a stronger resume. ​​ I need to apply to more roles. But after working with hundreds of senior candid

Big tech taught many of us that being “fungible” was a strength. You could move between teams. Your scope could change with a reorg. A new leader could look at your background and say, “We could use someone like you over here.” That worked because the system did the translation for you. Everyone shared the same language. Everyone understood leveling. Everyone had a mental model for what different roles actually meant in practice. You didn’t have to explain the problem you sol

One of the trickier moments in a job search looks like this: Things are finally moving. Conversations are warmer. Your name is circulating. And instead of feeling calm, you start thinking: “Should I be doing more?” ​​ “Should I broaden this?” ​​ “Am I being too narrow?” That impulse is understandable.It ’s also where a lot of people quietly derail themselves. The mistake I see at this stage When early momentum shows up, people often respond by expanding : More roles More titl

Every week, I see brilliant, senior people who led complex launches, programs, or GTM motions…struggle to explain their impact in a way that makes anyone outside their company understand (or care). And it’s not because they’re bad at storytelling. It ’s because high-performance cultures train you to value the wrong parts. A few examples: At Amazon , you’re rewarded for diving into the weeds. You succeed by knowing every defect, dependency, and operational nuance. Inside Amaz

If you’ve worked in big tech for any length of time, this week probably hit close to home. The Amazon layoff news is rippling through teams and communities everywhere — even for those not directly impacted. It ’s heavy. And it brings up a familiar mix of emotions: relief, worry, guilt, and the quiet question of “what if I’m next?” If you’re reading this from the other side — maybe you’ve already gone through one of the previous rounds of layoffs, or you left before the cuts —

Problem: Your confidence feels shaky. You don't know how to talk about yourself. Your story is fuzzy. If you can’t name the arc of your...

Most resumes and LinkedIn profiles sound like a job description: “Managed a team of 5.” “Led monthly reporting and analysis.”...

The story you’re telling might not be working as well as you think. Most LinkedIn profiles read like slightly upgraded resumes: “I owned this. I delivered that. I led a cross-functional team.” It’s not wrong. It ’s just… flat. If you’re job searching, thinking about a pivot, or trying to get seen for something bigger — that kind of language won’t help you stand out. It tells me what you did, not how you think . And that’s what actually moves the needle. Because here’s what h