My first job as a freelancer was to create a corporate identity for a new company. For $15/hr, I helped a local tax advisor launch several sub-brands, all aligned in terms of design, logos, positioning, and web presence.
It was a great gig. The pay could have been better but filling pages upon pages with writing and carefully choosing words for brand names and slogans was a good way to practice my craft. Plus, they loved what I was doing, so they kept coming back for more. This is where the problems began.
Knowing I had a degree in management, they asked me to come in on a regular basis and look at all kinds of things, ranging from tax reports to debt restructuring projects to full-scale corporate accounting. I’d learned some basic accounting in college, but I definitely wasn’t equipped to handle any of these tasks. They also contributed nothing to my growth as a writer. But the client needed every helping hand they could get.
Eventually, they started paying more. They gave me perks, like free coffee at the office and the ability to work from home. They even gave me a company car! Of course, none of these benefits changed the root problem: I wasn’t the right person for the job, and, to me, it felt like a dead end.
Finally, I stopped fighting fires for them. I called in, told them I’d return the car, and that I loved working with the team, but that, from now on, I’d only be available for the kind of work we initially agreed upon. I did a few follow-up jobs, and I’m a happy client of their tax service to this day, but I felt liberated after this decision, and I never regretted quitting that job to write more.
I didn’t see it at the time, and I sometimes blamed the company for dragging me into this spiral, but in reality, it was entirely my fault. It would have been easy to prevent the whole situation with a few extra nos, but I couldn’t.
What tripped me up and sent me on a detour en route to my dreams was a common self-sabotage pattern we all fall into, and that, often, we don’t even see: I was seduced by secondary gains.
What Are Secondary Gains?
Imagine this scenario: You’re leading a team of five people. You all work well together, but one member, Peter, often disrupts your flow.
Peter is good at what he does, but he’s disorganized. He tries to do too much by himself, can’t decide which tasks to prioritize, and, as a result, misses meetings and deadlines. To solve the problem, you send him on a paid training course where he learns about delegation, time management, and other productivity techniques.
Peter is grateful for the opportunity and, after he returns, things improve a bit for a while. Soon, however, Peter falls back into his old patterns: He’s hectic, unfocused, and spends most of his day trying to catch up.
If you ask German leadership coaches Mona Vogl and Gabriele Stöger, Peter never lacked the techniques to manage himself and deliver on time. Peter runs around frantically because he believes that, “Only a busy employee is a good employee.” He is sabotaging himself. His problem is entirely in his head.
When describing the situation like that, it might sound obvious that this belief is false, and that Peter should just let go of it. Of course, reality is a bit more complicated. Peter holds on to this belief for a hidden but albeit strong reason: It affords him secondary gains.
Secondary gains, according to Stöger and Vogl, are benefits we derive from not doing what would lead us to our most important goals.
In Peter’s case, hustling all day long gets him the attention, sympathy, and recognition of his peers. “Poor Peter, so stressed out again, aren’t you?” “Man, Peter, look at you keeping all these balls in the air!”
Of course, there are other ways for Peter to be acknowledged and respected through his work that don’t torpedo his or his team’s efforts. But the self-sabotaging pull of secondary gains is strong. As long as its needs are being fed, Peter can’t see the alternative paths that don’t block the road to his dreams.
Similarly, the perks I received and the feeling of self-importance I had every time I walked into the tax company’s office clouded my vision. I chose status over meaning, and only when I remembered what I really wanted to achieve long-term could I turn away from these secondary, less important benefits.
Recognition and acceptance from others — any form of status, really — are powerful secondary gains, but there are others, such as comfort, pleasure, pride, and novelty. Think about what it feels like to hit “Next” on Netflix for the seventh time in a row, to reach into the bag of chips again, to correct someone when you know they’re wrong, or to find out this week’s lottery numbers after buying a ticket.
Secondary gains are fickle because they seem innocent in the moment — if we can spot them at all. In hindsight, however, they clearly move us away from our dreams, and we’re the only ones who can identify and address them.
In Peter’s case, no one forced him to adopt a destructive work style. He chose to do so, and he’s the only one who can let it go. Until he stops the tape playing in his head, reminding him that “Only a busy employee is a good employee,” Peter will keep tripping — tripping over his own leg.
How to Identify and Manage Secondary Gains
Whatever big goal you’re trying to achieve right now, chances are, the invisible hand of secondary gains is pulling you in the wrong direction.
There’s no guarantee you can identify and remove all of them, but here are three ways to make an effort to do so.
1. Think about which of your “treats” are all-around destructive
The friend who introduced me to the concept of secondary gains commented on the idea: “If you ask me, most secondary gains are pretty pathetic. How could it be more important to eat a bag of chips every night than to lose weight, knowing the former will kill you while the latter will save you?”
That’s a crass way of looking at it, but he’s right. Some secondary gains are just all-around destructive. No matter how good smoking makes you feel, it consumes your money, time, and health.
If you can spot a habit in your life that seems to have no long-term benefit whatsoever, chances are it’s a huge millstone around your neck — and you should work to drop it as quickly as you can.
2. Remember why your biggest goals are important to you
In Long-Term Thinking for a Short-Sighted World, Jim Brumm quips:
Secondary gains rarely provide good, long-term arguments. The more you can teach yourself to ignore them in favor of doing what actually matters, the more you’ll act in alignment with who you really want to become. Often, this process starts with listening to your gut.
Despite all the perks at my freelance gig, I wasn’t happy. I felt stressed and worried a lot, even when I couldn’t spot an obvious reason. Once I tuned in to those feelings instead of running away from them, I remembered that, for me, it was more important to become a good writer than to be recognized for something I don’t really want to do.
Life is short. Look inside. Who do you truly want to be? What do you want to achieve while you’re here? Answering these questions will make it easy to let go what’s just not you. You’ll feel better, not worse.
3. Try to find secondary gains that also lead to your desired outcome
More often than not, there’s a way to align your secondary gains with your primary goal in life. Take Peter, for example. Instead of deriving status from constantly being stressed, he could likely gain as much peer respect from prioritizing his tasks, submitting his work on time, and setting healthy boundaries — if not more.
When you’re trying to become fit, find snacks you like as much as chips or chocolate but that are also nutritious and healthy. When you want to be an independent writer, get freelance work that’s related to writing until your own projects pay the bills.
Whatever you do, don’t take your eye off the ball, even if it floats far away in the distance. Secondary gains are sneaky. Like a thief in the night, they want to quietly steal your dreams. Don’t let them. You’re too good to trip over your own leg.