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Crabs in a Bucket

 

In my 20s, I worked a lot more hours. It was physically, mentally, and even socially taxing — whether racing through mad timelines for events or whatever came in between those gigs. And yet, somehow, I seemed less exhausted. Maybe my memory is coloured by nostalgia, but the burnout I feel since joining consulting is constant — overwhelmingly numbing, paralyzingly draining, leaving me an anxious wreck. I think I used to be someone who was nonchalant about many things. Lately, life seems determined to teach me to worry about every possible and impossible outcome — and still be caught off guard.

After over 2.5 years back in India, having joined Big 4 consulting, I am still aghast at the backstabbing, calculative, “this is normal in corporate” BS around me. I learned long ago that I can be naive, believing in the goodness of people — that I prefer to start from trust until someone proves me wrong, rather than the other way around. But consulting is a whole different ballgame. Whatever positives it brings — variety, challenging work, being around so-called the “best minds” — it’s all nullified by the narcissistic, toxic, manipulative ***holes running the industry.

Every time I’ve seen a fresh ray of hope, I’ve clung to it and given it my best: a new project, a new partner, a fresh chance to prove myself. And yet, in the end, it amounts to nothing. Decisions are made without transparency, ratings are handed out without fairness, clients are fickle and moody.

Sport is different. Sport is passion. Sport is competition, excellence, hunger for success — while still valuing your team and your support system. Yes, there are toxic coaches and unfairness in sport. But at the end of the day, there is a fair chance of success if you train, practice, and give it your all. The goalpost is defined. The metrics of success are clear.

Consulting could not be more far removed from sport. Few people seem to actually spend effort honing their knowledge and skills. Most focus on building a foundation on the corpses of junior “resources,” just to climb the ladder. And they spend their time oiling already slippery referees.

I’ve been saying that consulting happened to me; I didn’t really choose it. But I was not prepared for how fundamentally against my core values and ethics it would be.

Run, you fools — Gandalf, facing the Balrog — to anyone thinking of getting into Big 4 consulting.
We cannot get out. They are coming. — I live in disillusionment, with no visible escape route, shut in the mines of Moria, goblins closing in from all directions. I am trying to summon the last bit of energy for this battle. But part of me feels it would be safest to play dead.

 


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