Don’t Be Replaced Without Difficulty

My friend Roman recently wrote about a Japanese psychiatrist’s warning that people mistake their job for ikigai until they leave and are ‘replaced without difficulty.’

“Replaced without difficulty”

Those three words found their ikigai in my brain. They capture what I’m working against: anyone wasting their potential in a role where they can be replaced without difficulty.

Replaceable doesn’t mean worthless, but it does mean they’re shoving themselves into a box rather than sharpening their edges to make contributions they’re built for.

I’m working toward the opposite: helping more and more people figure out how to be impossible to replace, even with great difficulty.

Being Irreplaceable Is the Best

The most obvious and common example of being impossible to replace, even with great difficulty, is family. Most of us, even if we’re identical twins, can’t have our contributions to our families be replaced. We don’t simply fill some boxy role of “brother,” “daughter,” or “mother.” Kim couldn’t replace me with an off-the-shelf new “dad-husband” like she could her web engineer, accountant, or family doctor. I may not be the world’s best dad-husband, but my way of doing it is one-of-a-kind.

Being impossible to replace, even with great difficulty, gives meaning to what you do. This suggests a new way of understanding the results of the nearly-century-long Harvard Study of Adult Development, which found that the single most important contributor to a happy, healthy life is relationships. Maybe what makes relationships so important is our irreplaceable role in them.

Not to stick my nose up at the Harvard Study, but as much as I enjoy time with my family and friends, I don’t only want to spend my life bestowing my one-of-a-kind-ness upon them. For not just a happy, healthy life, but a GOAT one, I want other roles where my contribution similarly can’t be replaced, even with great difficulty. Maybe—ideally—roles I could actually earn the title of best (and only) in the world.

Are You Really That Special?

Ask yourself:

Then:

Being impossible to replace because you hoarded information, documented nothing, and kept the only password in your head doesn’t count. Being a human bottleneck is an anti-contribution.

Here’s a harder version of the test I came up with years ago after reading Blake Crouch’s Dark Matter then listening to Lisa Bodell’s “kill the company” exercise on an Adam Grant podcast:

Irreplaceability Goes Both Ways

Being irreplaceable isn’t squatter’s rights. 

If I were a deadbeat dad whose kids loved me only because they didn’t know better, I’d be a sitting duck for a takeover by my alternate-universe self. So even with no one breathing down your neck, keep honing your edge: look for “trifecta” contributions you’d 1) enjoy, 2) be proud to have done, and 3) want to keep doing — even after your alternate-universe self gave up.

And if you’d happily step aside to let your alternate-universe self take over, that’s a sign.

The right irreplaceable role is one you wouldn’t want to replace with anything else, either.

Demis Hassabis, Bryan Stevenson, and Joe Liemandt wouldn’t press the reset button to go back and take on different roles than leading their quests. Same with me and going back in time to try my luck with a different wife and kids. No, thanks.

Find the ways to contribute where you can’t be replaced, and that you wouldn’t replace with anything else. Don’t be replaced without difficulty.