Indian career advice syndrome: Respect vs fear of failure.
Tags: Compassion, Behaviour, Learning, India, Education

‘Forget sports and learning instruments. That won’t help you get a job’. Repeat that a few dozen times every month and suddenly it becomes part of many mantras that are tattooed into the mind seen as a special career advisory gift of the byzantine Indian culture.

40 years of mainstream sports; football, tennis, rugby, golf, boxing, athletics, basketball, American football, any winter Olympic sports, and there is a common denominator. There are no Indians involved. If there are, they must be the tax advisors or the accountants, but certainly no-one hits the headlines for their achievements. There is more gold in the mouth of Mike Tyson than the combined winning medals of India in the Olympics over the last 5 years. (I have purposely left our cricket as that doesn’t seem to have India as the dominant champions either).

So, what’s left. Chess, times tables competition, becoming a human calculator so that you can work out the square root of 563847, which of course is so useful in everyday life. But even that is dominated by others. I watched Magnus Carlson play 7 chess games, blind-folded and looking the other way. A real talented fellow.

Mainstream musical instruments; Chinese, Russian, European are perhaps some of the leaders in this domain. I grew up in a culture where listening to devotional music was looked upon as a thought leader. Indians in the 1970’s grew fond of reggae and rap music and Indian music took the foundation of RNB and rap to fuse into their rhythmic drum-beating, and what sprouted was quite interesting. But it just took a combination of Jay Z, Dr. Dre, Dua Lipa and Taylor Swift to sell more music that the British Indian music scene has or ever will sell.

Yet ironically, India produces millions of very capable, intellectual and very driven graduates each year. Hard-working and polite it would seem. So, why are we not able to show-case that talent in all areas?

One has to delve deep into our culture/behaviour to understand this. From the outside, Indians come across as walking-calculators or human chess pieces. We certainly look the part with the perfect side-partings, spectacles to suit, and lacking in any knowledge of music or sport unless it’s seen to be mentally challenging.

Indians believe in ‘vanilla’. That is not the ice-cream flavour or growing pods. They grow up all wanting the same, because the generation above did exactly that as did the one before. When it comes to career; it’s either doctor, dentist or engineer. When it comes to sport, its chess or badminton (that too not at a competitive level). When it comes to music, it’s always Bollywood film music. Cars: Mercedes and BMW. Do Indians like pets? Not a chance. We hate dogs and cats as they make a mess in the house and who wants to take them for a walk? We just about get out of the house ourselves.

Rather the point is that Indians in the mainstream are not opportunistic. The ‘taking risk’ segment in the DNA is largely dormant; perhaps it comes out in the placenta. Risk is a word we love, yet we take great pleasure in watching or encouraging others to take it, rather than ourselves. We are happy to see others fail and gossip about them rather than it happen to our immediate family.

I admire the risk appetite and self-belief athletes have, never fearing failure. They don’t worry about future income and what their bank balances will look like, and whether their children will have inheritance. And that is precisely why they get ahead of us in such environments. The Indian behaviour is to focus on what derives reward or profit. If we do something, we want something in return. Why do South Indians wear multi-culoured precious stone rings on every finger? It’s not for fashion or to protect themselves in a fist fight. It’s becuase they have been told repetitively by a priest that having that ring will bring luck from the manner in which the sun and planets shine on them. Why do we pray so much? Or WHAT do we pray for? We always want something in return for our time that we have committed, whether it is to pass an exam, for someone to get better from an illness, for a new job, for an attractive wife (perhaps not). Are we natural born traders? We only give if we get in return. I know one thing for sure, Bezos doesn’t wear so many rings, nor does Elon Musk or Ratan Tata. They did something different. They worked hard, and played hard. They didn’t lose hope and took the route of failure, which is to go to a priest and subscribe to colourful rings. That is just a belief. The real winner is the priest who doesn’t wear so many rings!

We are encouragend to play chess. Why? Because it’s something we perceive as a ‘smart person’s’ game involving mental agility. It was played for centuries in India amongst the noble ranks, but they never had Magnus Carlson to play against. It’s about perception. ‘My son plays chess and is the class champion!’ gloats my aunt. Is this for intimidation purposes so that we don’t challenge him to a game and thrash him? Or is it to place him on an imaginary higher seat than his peers.

Indians love to find a way to make themselves better than their peers. Is that a lack of compassion or quite simply being over-zealous? Frankly who cares for chess? Perhaps that’s a negative way to look at it. If I was so good at chess, perhaps I would perceive it differently.

As soon as a child is conceived to Indian parents, the very same day, at 8am, something miraculous happens to the parents, unknowing to them. There is an automatic cerebral adjustment. It’s no different to Superman finding Kryptonite and several different nicely arranged icicles. What did he do with them? He placed them in an icicle-slot, and there appeared a hologram of his mother and father who preached to him a chapter of an encyclopedia. (Perhaps they too had Indian heritage).

And there lies the miracle! At the time of conception, an on-line (in the brain) version of ‘Career advisor’ is installed in the brains of all Indian parents.

Now, there is a problem. There is a glitch.

The glitch is that 98% of us are getting the same version of this advice programme. The 2% that got away are now failed footballers or vastly rich businessmen married to someone why wanted and not arranged. Those 2% are content and enjoy their lives and did what they want. But they are seen as outcasts because they were gene-mutations in the Indian Career Development Programme.

Since 1950, there has been no software upgrade, hence we all think the same.

From that moment onwards, our parents know what subjects we should study, who our friends should be, who we need to compete against in class, what clothes we need to wear, how our hair should be combed, who we ought to marry, our career options, and mostly importantly, that we must be more successful than our cousins. And if we fail to do that, we must immediately stop talking to them.

The unfortunate glitch is that the software engineers who designed this miraculous chip, no longer exist and hence no chance to change the status quo.

I always say that the first 3 years of life are the best. Eating, sleeping, playing. No bills, no tax and no comprehension of British politicians’ verbal diarrhoea. After that, the culmination of long hours of studying and a career path decided by others awaits us.

But, the consequences of these actions are far-fetching.

My generation and the next generation of Indians (raised in the UK) are competing since we were toddlers. We have been made to feel that unless we own million pound homes and have a jet-set lifestyle, that we failed in the community in the eyes of others. What makes us happy does not matter. We are constantly told that to be respected in the community requires a high-flying career, at least twin-turbo 6 litre engined car, and children in private schooling. Any deviation, and we are not in the top-slot.

When I meet Indians, and especially those coming from India in the last 10 years, they are forever ranking you (in terms of how much respect they will give you) based on your seniority in the workplace, your designation, your income, the price of your abode, and the success of your children. Its seems a failure to tell people that you children work for DHL as a driver (although I may live to regret saying that being the most desired and over-applied job currently!). Parents relate this to the ease at which you will get married or find a suitable partner. So, if you are a half-decent looking businessman, then one can choose a bride from catalogues A to Z. A doctor may get a look through catalogues A-S. An engineer A-G, and anything less than that qualification, then just leave a message on the answering machine and the bride’s parents may call you back within 14 days. (I hasten to add that catalogue is the equivalent of the quantity of choice, and not the literal meaning).

We cannot blame our parents. They want the best for their children. They take the easiest route in terms of risk-free advice. They know that there is a global and never ending need for doctors, dentists, opticians, pharmacists and engineers. So, why not follow that path. (I should point out that those not getting the required grades for medicine or dentistry follow paths of pharmacy or optometry and the dreamers end up in biomedical sciences…well, it does contain the syllable ‘Medi’). Indian parents don’t want to see their children suffering without a film-star income or Kylie Jenner styled accommodation. Heaven forbid, it would be a curse against the family name! Not achieving this is seen as a failure….and here is the twist. The failure is a perception in our minds. We grow up thinking that if we don’t succeed at school, what will others think? In 95% of cases, others don’t care, but our minds are conditioned to not accept that thought pattern. It does matter. And with that belief, we soldier on, each and every day, fighting the good fight, to do something that separates us from all the millions of other Indians, because if we do better, they will respect us. Power and money.

Allow me to provide a living example. Grammar schools. A grammar school is a phrase that most Indians cannot differentiate from public schools (i.e. Clarendon schools) but can from state schools. In simple terms, the perception is that state schools are where the not-so-clever children end up. Not the case at all! Royal Guildford Grammar School (ranked in the top 25 in the UK) has over 50% state primary school entrants, and Hamptons school (ranked much higher) has even more at 55%. But that doesn’t matter I am told. It’s the name!…its the status. Indians enjoy the status. They want to differentiate from those friends whose children failed to get in, so that unseen gloating can take place behind closed doors. The majority of these parents have never stepped inside a Grammar school themselves and know nothing of the working. State school children do just as well and end up in good careers also, but no-one want to hear that…because the truth hurts.

When we buy a car, do we buy a car to show our relatives and make them jealous of our success? Or are we actually interested in purchasing a Range Rover Vogue. If everyone had a Range Rover, would we still buy it? If it was priced at $5,000, would we buy it? Probably not. Because it wouldn’t put us a wrung ahead on the ladder.

After working with many Indians, I realised, they possess the innate ability to rank anyone on a ‘ladder-wrung respect system’. The more power and money one possesses (equated to level of success), the better they are regarded and respected. The Indian chap who was working a crane 800m high on Burj Khalifa, risking his life, hero-status potentially….but…what was his name? In the UK, some unknown chap won a bike race and was given a knighthood (Ref. Sir Bradley Wiggins). Lost for words!

What happened to Vijay Mallya? The man at the top of the ladder. The idol of many. The hero of the business world. The man of glamour. Well, I guessed he walked under the ladder as his luck changed and now he doesn’t even have a rope to climb let alone a ladder. He went from hero to zero if I follow the Indian respect system — a complete recalibration.

We idolise success, wealth, power. Ratan Tata, the reclusive Indian businessman. He’s a national hero. Softly spoken, yet power hungry, who wouldn’t want to be in his shoes. All Indian students from IIT India would love to be his child….not for inheriting his looks, but because it would be the easiest way to be rich and famous. The overnight glamour! The crowds of budding students at your beckon and call.

But, what did he do that was so great? Let me give my view of what is great. A fire-fighter. A man (or woman) who risks their own life to save others. Self-less, compassionate and single-minded.

Ever seen an Indian fire-fighter in the UK? I haven’t. Why? Because we don’t possess the risk appetite gene. We are too scared we will die. Now, if the salary offered was $150,000, the scenario may be different. Perhaps we think that to become a fire-fighter required a six-pack, which would disqualify most Indians out of the race.

So, we spend a lifetime reaching what we believe is the pinnacle of success. But do those on the lower wrungs look up to us and respect us? This is the complex piece. If there is a gap of more than 5 wrungs, then there is a lot of respect looking upwards. People look upto the top wrungs as they know they cannot reach those heights. On the middle wrungs, there is no respect. There is jealously. Individuals are jealous of the one above and would love to see them fail or lose their position or status in society. There is not better than to watch the great fall flat on their face! An Indian tragedy.

Jealousy is a common trait amongst Indian families because no-one wants to be on a lower wrung than their comrades. We all want to be seen as equals. Unfortunately, I have seen good friendships (or perhaps they were not) or relations fall apart because of this exact jealously. No-one is happy to see another succeed.

Then there is the bottom wrungs. Here the friendship and camaraderie is strong, because here, people believe they don’t posses the skills or ‘luck’ to go up the food chain, and they are quite content in that environment. So, the bottom few wrungs are more like elevators, where people do up and down regularly, but without much due care. The higher floor buttons do not work.

Those who fail end up shunning themselves from the limelight and sometimes worse; suicide or depression. Why? Because there is a lack of compassion. Why do we not embrace people for who they are as individuals rather an see them as chess pieces and rank them accordingly. If we all see each other as pawns or kings, and treat each other with love, respect and compassion, we will all be successful. We will all help one another. Having $1million in the bank and watching children starving on TV is not compassion. We are all equal.

My view is that we ought to encourage children to be happy, engage and encourage in learning what they love, encourage them to become what they want, encourange them to earn what they need to survive, encourage them not judge one another on their achievements or lack of, and respect the fact that a fire-fighter may not have the education of a doctor, but they do the same job. They save lives…with one difference; the fire-fighter might lose his to save a life. Would a doctor do the same? And if he/she did, would Indians still chase the dream to be a doctor? Would parents encourage it knowing their child may lose their life? So, perhaps they should consider that next time they dial 999 for the fire service.

At the end of the game, all the chess pieces go back into the same box.