The first time I was asked to lead a team in 2017, I wasn’t excited. I was slightly uneasy. Not because of the extra responsibility, but because of what it might turn me into. I kept thinking, “Is this where I stop doing actual work and just start telling other people what to do?”
I’ve been lucky with managers. Some of them were genuinely exceptional. Not just at their craft, but at managing people. And I’ve also seen the opposite end of this spectrum. Incredibly talented people who were unbearable to work with. Being good at what you do and being a good manager are very different things.
When I thought about the best managers I’ve worked with, one thing stood out. They never really stopped being individual contributors. They were still involved in the work. Not superficially, but enough to stay grounded and that changes how you manage.
When you’re still doing the work, your expectations are realistic. You know how long things take, where things can go wrong, and what “good” actually looks like. A manager who hasn’t touched Blender in years will ask for hard surface model of a tank in 3 hours, a request that don’t make sense. Someone who still uses it won’t.
There’s also a different kind of respect that comes with it. Teams can tell when you understand the work. You can’t be easily bluffed, and you’re not giving feedback from a distance. It creates accountability without forcing it.
Somewhere along the way, management started being treated like an upgrade. Like you’ve moved on from doing the work. I don’t think that’s true. The best managers I’ve seen never really moved on. I haven't moved on. They just expanded what they were responsible for.
This approach probably doesn’t scale perfectly. At some point, you’ll spend more time coordinating than contributing. But completely disconnecting from the craft feels worse. At that point, you’re no longer managing the work, you’re managing an idea of it.
If I ever reach a point where I’m only filling out performance sheets and not contributing meaningfully to the work, I’ll know I’ve drifted too far.