That question bothers me and yet it’s part of our script. In times past, the get-to-know-you question centered on the family name: knowing a person's surname told you where they came from, how they were raised, what they stood for, whether their word was good or if they were credit worthy.  Everything you needed to know (or thought you needed to know) summed up in a word.  Now, our short hand for learning everything about one another (or so we think) is ‘what do you do?’  

This question bothers me because it is too reductionist.  It’s overly simple. Questions like this bypass the work of getting to know someone really.  ‘Lawyer’ is easier to deal with than ‘Larry’ because I’ve met lawyers before.  I know how to interact with them.  I know which set of vocabulary to use and who my lawyer friends are.  I know which news articles to reference in conversation and I know which topics to avoid.  But ‘Larry’ is messy.  I knew a Larry in college and he still owes me money but I also know a Larry from church who speaks to my kid every week.  ‘Larry’ requires me to be open about the person in front of me, while ‘lawyer’ gives me a script.  Much cleaner, even if I don’t get to ever see the person in front of me.  

Questions like this seek categories, not understanding.  Ask any third grader what she wants to be when she grows up and you’ll likely get some direct, simple answer ranked from her exposure to Mom and Dad’s jobs, the public service men and women they meet at the local ’touch-a-truck’ and the occupation of their cartoon heroes.  Ask any adult what she actually does and you’ll likely get something far more nuanced or even novel.  I’m often struck by how many jobs exist in industries I’ve never heard of. 

Questions like this put the conversational onus on the other person, requiring full defense and illustration.  I’ve spent much of my career in management consulting.  My kids think I color for a living and for a while my parents thought I worked in IT.  Even speaking with folks in the industry, there is such a wide spectrum of possibilities that we end up playing some form of Buzzword Bingo trying to see which of us can figure out the other’s job first.  

Have you ever noticed how a person reacts when asked that question?  

• Benign banality of neither gratitude or disgust; their job simply ‘is’?

• Deference born from experience: ask a sniper about his job and you’ll get a whitewashed version of his experience because he’d have to kill you if he told you the truth.

• Muster of effort: ‘here we go again’ flashes across their minds as they try to explain that ‘improv coach’ is indeed a real job and that he does indeed get paid real money

• Inevitability: you’ve seen it at dinner parties where Myron finds out that Carol is a doctor and, as if on cue, asks her about a rash that just appeared. Goodbye Carol, hello Dr. Weirdmole

• Awkwardness: this appears in roles like ‘pastor’ or ‘insurance salesman’ because people expect a certain script to follow, even if it never does

I meet new people on a regular basis and do my best to ask any question other than ‘what do you do?’  Perhaps this is borne out of my own insecurities because what I do isn’t simply categorized and wasn’t shown at career day.  I’d like to believe that behind every lawyer, teacher, consultant and hairdresser is a Larry, Evelyn, Carol and Mack with a story to tell beyond what in their organizational chart.