In 2014, I scored an internship at M, BMW’s sports car division. It felt like a dream come true. I still remember many details of the experience.
I remember the long walk from the station to their remote offices outside Munich. It was a sunny winter day, and, underneath my suit, I was freezing.
I remember what I said when they asked me what I thought differentiated them from Mercedes’ AMG department. I told them AMG jammed their cars full of raw, unfiltered power. They were loud and strong, but the power lacked direction. At M, every detail served a goal. It was either performance or a feeling, but if a part didn’t have a purpose, it just wouldn’t be there.
I remember the very corner of the library 300 kilometers away from their office that I stood in when I got the call. “You’re in.” No “Vitamin B,” as we call it in Germany when relationships get you the job. I had applied via the official channels, and then…some mix of skill and luck.
One more of these details is not just something I remember, it is something I hold in my hand right now: A small, white notebook I received on my first day there. It was empty — as all good notebooks are — and today, six years later, most pages are still blank. Others, I tore out to use elsewhere.
There is exactly one page of notes left, but on that page, I can find something worth sharing today. It is a set of ten questions. I know who I got them from, even if it doesn’t say anywhere on the page: These are Seth Godin-inspired questions.
I compiled them from his books and interviews back in the day, and I did so to make sure in the six months to come, I would do work that matters. I didn’t want to just show up, I wanted to be there. I wanted to be a real part of M. To become M, embrace their philosophy, and help them make change.
I think I succeeded, and while the specifics of that are a story for another day, I do want to share those questions with you. I hope they’ll inspire you.
1. Is what you’re doing remarkable?
How do you define “remarkable?” Quite literally: Is what you’re doing worth mentioning to a friend — not for you but the person you’re doing it for.
Whenever I needed something from someone, I’d try to show up in person. I took countless five-minute walks down to the logistics center, and I had many friendly interactions with the workers there, who otherwise had a pretty boring job.
Maybe, some of them once made a remark to their family at dinner: “Nik came by today. Nice guy.” I won’t ever know if anyone did, but that’s not the point. The point is I did something that had a shot at deserving a remark.
2. Would you be missed?
It takes a while until new employees provide value. They must learn the ways of the company first.
After a few weeks on the job, however, I already handled a lot of “let’s not botch these” type of tasks. By the end of my internship, I handled most of the day-to-day work of one of the company’s senior slackers. I didn’t mind. He’d done his 30 years there already. He had a positive spirit. He let me do cool things and taught me the stuff you can only read between the lines. It was awesome — and I bet he cursed the day I left.
Often, we don’t know who “they” are, and we don’t know what “gone” means, but it always helps to ask: Would they miss you if you were gone?
3. If you didn’t show up, how many would ask: “Where are you?”
The year of my internship was the year I learned to make websites with Wordpress. In the summer, I often went to coffee shops in my spare time and designed basic landing pages for iconic BMW M cars. I was just dabbling, but those pastime activities later became the foundation of launching my blog and email newsletter.
A few months after that, I tested the specific variant of Seth’s question I wrote down in my notebook: “If you didn’t send out an email this week, how many people would write to you and ask: ‘Where’s the email?’” Back then, the answer was zero. Today, I’m lucky to have people check on me every now and then whenever I’m quiet for too long.
It’s a long road to doing something that matters, and you’ll only ever matter to a small group of people, but if no one really cares whether you do your work or not, at least in the long run, it’s probably work that’s not all that important.
4. Are you changing people?
Change can be small. A smile is a change. So is a nod. People don’t have to shower you with likes or money to verify that you matter. They can do that in their living room without you ever realizing, which is why it’s so important to keep showing up.
Eventually, you will get more tangible feedback of the change you’re making. People will email you, comment on your work, or commend you in front of their friends. But until that day, be content with small changes happening in silence. You never know when they’ll add up.
5. Do you transform others?
Transformation is the big brother of change. It’s the kind of change you can see, and if you can’t, you can definitely feel it. Transformation is the kind of service you’ll remember a lifetime performing. You’ll never forget the person who thanked you for helping them lose 20 pounds.
Everyone can make change, but it rarely compounds into true transformation. Work hard, do your best, expect nothing. Maybe, you’ll get a testimonial that makes for a cool epitaph. Maybe, you won’t. Either way, you’ll be proud of what you did while you were here.
6. Are you helping people find respect?
One of the most profound transformations you can offer is to show a group of people respect that are usually being offered none.
During my time at M, I always went out of my way to thank two categories of employees: the secretaries in the office and the mechanics in the workshop. Both were crucial to our entire operation yet vastly under-appreciated. Without the secretaries, their bosses literally couldn’t function, and without the mechanics, neither could the cars. Nevertheless, both parties were often taken for granted, and so was their hard work.
I was only an intern, but I think my “Thank you,” to them still mattered — because every “Thank you” matters.
7. Can you be the best in the world at this?
The only way to be the best in the world is to make “best” subjective and to make “world” really small.
I wasn’t the world’s greatest intern. I wasn’t the most productive BMW employee. But the best intern for the European sales unit of M for six months? That seemed doable, and I worked hard to live up to that mission every day.
Look at all the circles in your life where you can add value. What is fun? What do you believe in? What are your unique talents? Intersect enough of these circles, and you’ll have an intersection at which only you can stand — and then hold the torch as high as you can.
8. Is this something that might not work?
Without risk, there can be no reward. I planned many events at M. I always scheduled them with high hopes. “Fingers crossed they’ll like this activity.” “I hope this exhibit will be a hit.” But I never knew for sure.
Often, you just have to take your best shot. It won’t always land, but if it’s a shot that can’t miss, it’s also one that won’t hit. As long as it’s an ambitious at doing work that matters, however, it’ll never be wrong to have gone for it — even if it doesn’t pan out.
9. Are you connecting people around a shared cause, goal, or purpose?
Fame is not a cause. Attention is not a purpose. What you try to rally people around must be bigger than yourself. We’re going for real emotions here. We don’t care about the fluff.
M has a long history of making people feel alive. It’s a unique connection between human and machine. It’s about performance, achievement, empowerment. It’s about respect, ingenuity, and creativity.
When the right person sits in an M car, they can feel it. I don’t need to explain it. You’ll either know or you won’t — but for the people who do, that feeling makes all the difference.
10. What is this for?
The answer better not be “My boss.” Why are you doing what you’re doing? That’s a hard question, but it deserves an honest answer — and not once but every day.
I always tried to connect the task in front of me to its place in the bigger picture. That’s an effort you’ll rarely make in vain. Even if a task sucks, as long as you can think of a good reason to complete it — a good person who depends on its success — you’ll never lack motivation. You’ll always know how and why what you’re doing matters, and that’s a priceless feeling.
There is one more thing I wrote into that notebook. I put it right on the inside of the cover so I would never miss it:
“If you don’t want to get up in the morning to do your work, quit.”
It wasn’t an excuse to be lazy. It was a reminder to make sure I always knew my purpose, and that if I ever lost said purpose, it would be okay to start over.
Pretty ballsy for an intern, don’t you think? Six years later, I still believe in that line, just like I still believe in Seth’s questions — and I enjoyed my internship until the very last day.