One of the first things we try to find out about a person is what his job is. I suppose the reason is that it helps us to define his status. We shall be able to judge where he stands socially, we can estimate how much he earns, and thus what kind of standard of living he can afford. In addition, we shall get a pretty good idea of his educational background. I cannot deny that I am just as curious about people's jobs as the next man. But I am not so much interested in what a man does as how he came to choose that particular line of work in the first place. So after 'how do you do?' and 'what do you do?' the question I ask (or would like to ask, because it is a sensitive area in which to ask such direct questions) is 'why did you choose it?'
The trouble is that we often choose a career for the wrong reasons. Take for instance those people who follow in father's footsteps, either entering the same trade or profession, or inheriting the family business. John decides to be a doctor because his father was a doctor. In fact 'decides' is too strong a word: he probably never even thought about it. Funnily enough many people make exactly the opposite decision namely that whatever else they might do, they will certainly not do what father did. A friend of mine, Simon, is a good example of the kind of mental struggle that goes on. He decided while he was still at school that he would not go into his father's business. Instead, he went to university, took a degree in chemistry and went into the research department of a firm that manufactured detergents. After a couple of years he decided that he wanted to be a teacher. So he took a training course and went to teach in a comprehensive school in the Midlands. After a spell in the classroom, he came to the conclusion that, after all, business administration might be a better career, and he is now working for his father in the factory which he will one day inherit. In this case I am not sure whether 'better' for Simon means more rewarding, more challenging, or simply more comfortable. Certainly he is much better off financially and he is required to use more skills than ever before, but at the same time he has the security of knowing that he will one day take over a profitable and well-established business.
It seems to me that Simon was on the right track when he decided to do what he was good at, namely chemistry, in which he always came top at school. No doubt he was also persuaded by his teacher that this was the career for him. We may also be persuaded to embark on a career for which we are unsuited as a result of meeting people, whom we admire: I know of one young woman who was a doctor at fourteen, a language teacher at sixteen, and is now at university studying law: in succession she met and fell in love, as it were, with an eminent surgeon, a brilliant linguist, and a successful lawyer. Judging from her aptitude for languages on the one hand, and her rather unsystematic way of ordering her life on the other, I doubt if she has made the right decision. An interesting feature of her choice is the attitude of her parents. They were quite pleased when she announced her intention to study medicine, disappointed when she switched to languages, and finally overjoyed when she settled for a legal career. Clearly they have a very definite idea of the relative merits of different jobs. And even though they appeared to leave the choice entirely to their daughter, she always knew very well what they thought, and in the end probably decided to go in for law out of respect for their wishes and their opinions. After all, some professions carry with them a special sort of glamour, quite apart from the financial rewards they bring, which can be very seductive. It is a pity that we have to make such an important decision about our future at a stage in our lives when we are so easily swayed by factors which have little or nothing to do with the central issue, namely, that we should do those things for which we have a natural talent.