People usually quit their jobs because of bad leaders, not because of a bad company. I’ll analyze why we quit in another post — but for now, let’s discuss why we follow.

The primary reasons I landed on are fear and benefit — two basic instincts. Either you’re submitting to control, or you expect to gain something from that leader.

When fear is the driver

I don’t want to be fired. I need this job and can’t afford to lose it. My finances depend on it, and I’m not sure I could find a new job in a reasonably short time.

This is sometimes true, but it should never be the primary reason for accepting and following a leader. If it is, start building a stronger position in the market: find what’s preventing you from finding a new job, and fix it. Take your time — but treat this period as one you’re actively improving out of, with a clear end date.

I deserve this, because I’m not good enough. Companies hire people to get value from them — at least, that’s how it should work — and if you were hired, the company needs what you bring. That said, your professional growth should never stall indefinitely. If your leader makes you feel like you’re kept around out of charity, it’s time to rethink your motivations and your future.

When benefit is the driver

Improvement. Working alongside a leader you respect and admire helps you grow professionally, and lends you the credibility of being part of a team that reaches extraordinary goals. Being close to people you admire changes who you become — traditionally, apprentices fought to stay near a master, to learn, improve, and eventually become masters themselves. That’s the right reason to follow a leader. These leaders can and should become mentors to you, just as you should become one for others down the line.

Protection. When you lack experience, you need someone who can shield you from the things you don’t yet know how to navigate — politics, confrontation, everything not strictly work-related. That’s a valid reason to stay close to a leader, though it shouldn’t last forever. Use that time to build the skills you’re missing, and move toward the improvement motivation as soon as you can.

Think about which of these is really driving you. Your future depends on it.

Let’s delve into the myth of multitasking and its real impact on productivity. Many of us grew up surrounded by computers, and at some point we all drew the analogy between a CPU and our brain.

But the reality is that our brain is not a multi-core CPU capable of handling several tasks at once. If anything, it behaves more like a single-core CPU — limited in how much it can genuinely process in parallel.

I’ve seen plenty of people with tens of open browser tabs, the email app, a spreadsheet, and two monitors on their desk, giving the impression of being very busy and very productive.

But it isn’t.

Publilius Syrus, the Roman philosopher, once said: “to do two things at once is to do neither.” And that’s the truth.

When you think you’re multitasking, you’re actually task-switching. Switching from one task to another has a cost — sometimes higher than the value of the task itself — because you have to hold the context in memory each time you move.

I know it’s hard to believe, so here’s a simple exercise that removes all doubt.

Take a piece of paper and a pen, and draw a horizontal line. Grab your phone or a watch to time yourself.

First, write above the line the sentence:

“What I do is not multitasking.”

And below the line, write the sequence of numbers:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 … 29

It should look something like this:

First, time yourself writing one letter (or space) of the sentence, then one number, alternating — W, 1, h, 2, and so on — until you complete both lines.

Then reset, and do it again, but this time write the whole sentence first, and only then the whole sequence of numbers. Compare the two times.

If you’re like most people, the first version takes roughly double the time of the second. The conclusions are yours to draw.

Imagine your first day at a new job — new office, new people. After you sit at your new desk, someone from the People team comes to give you a guided tour.

You start walking, and she introduces you to, let’s say, 30 new people during the tour, plus three or four more you meet at the cafeteria. Now imagine that at the end of the day, someone hands you a list of 200 names and asks: could you mark which of these you met today? You’ll probably manage fewer than five — the ones you spent the most time with, or the last ones you met.

Now imagine a different version of that same day. Instead of a list of 200 names, this person brings you a book with 200 photos and asks the same question. You’ll probably get close to all 30.

Why?

Because names are isolated pieces of information — you can’t relate a name to anything except the moment someone was introduced. A photo, on the other hand, carries a lot of metadata: where you were, what that person did, the first thing they said, whether it was morning or afternoon.

We are more visual than we give ourselves credit for. Images carry far more context, and as pieces of information, they’re much easier for us to relate to than names in isolation.

It’s a small fact, but understanding it can change how you choose to use your memory.

Ten years ago, I would probably go crazy trying to find a new job as soon as possible; now, I see it as an excellent opportunity to sit and reflect on my goals.

Experience is a good thing that comes with the years, if not the best. You learn about what you want, but more about what you don’t want.

I don’t want to join a company without a transparent culture that fits mine. Values are more than intentions — something more than a slide shown on hiring, repeated at every all-hands, and forgotten when the time to demonstrate them actually comes.

I don’t want to join a company where I need to fight with my teammates to grow my career at their expense; I want to be considered on my merits, not by who I’m friends with.

I don’t want to join a company purely to grow my income, counting the days until I can afford to quit working.

I want to join a company that sees in me a value that can help it improve, and that helps its people feel better as professionals.

I want to join a company that recognizes experience as a valuable asset and isn’t chasing “rock stars.”

I want to join a company that treats money as one of the essential parts of the business — but not the only important part.

My second action will be to start a new mailing list for anyone interested in what I have to share. I’ll write about my thoughts and the book every second week, sharing what I learn for free with anyone who wants to improve.