
But That's Not My Job
There’s a phrase that echoes in the halls of businesses across the world. It’s a quiet poison, a subtle rejection of teamwork that masquerades as professional boundary-setting. It’s the reflexive, almost knee-jerk response of, “That’s not my job.”
We’ve all felt the sting of it. You’re up against a deadline, a critical task needs a fresh pair of eyes, or a small, unexpected problem pops up, threatening to derail a project. You turn to a colleague for a little help, only to be met with that verbal brick wall. It’s a statement that says, "Your problem is not my problem." In that moment, the team’s shared mission dissolves, replaced by a collection of siloed job descriptions.
This person, let's call them the "Lane Keeper," isn't necessarily lazy or malicious. Often, their stance comes from a place of fear, burnout, or a rigid understanding of their role. They are the sailor who diligently polishes the brass on their section of the ship, ignoring the frayed rope on the mast nearby because, after all, that rope isn't on their checklist. They fail to see that a snapped rope in a storm threatens everyone, regardless of whose job it was to check it.
This mindset is a challenge to our collective purpose. My instinct is to call this out for what it is: a limiting belief that holds us back from what we could accomplish together. We are called to raise the standard, and that standard must include a sense of shared ownership that transcends the bullet points on a job description.
The Ditch on the Other Side of the Road
But let's be careful. In our zeal to combat the "Lane Keeper," we can easily swerve into the opposite ditch. This is the territory of the "Meddler."
The Meddler is the person who, with the best of intentions, dives into every task. They see a problem and immediately assume they are the solution. They’re the first to grab the helm, even if they’ve never learned to navigate. While the Lane Keeper refuses to see beyond their own checklist, the Meddler sees every checklist as their own.
Their actions, while often well-meaning, can be just as damaging. They can undermine the experts on the team, create more work by "helping" in areas where they lack context or skill, and foster an environment of mistrust. They communicate, unintentionally, that they don’t believe their teammates are capable. This behavior can feel like a form of manipulation—using involvement to serve their own need to be seen as indispensable.
So we find ourselves caught between two extremes: the crewmate who won’t grab a bucket as the ship takes on water, and the crewmate who insists on steering the ship into the storm because they have a "hunch." Neither approach serves the mission.
Finding the Stewardship Sweet Spot
The answer isn't to simply "meet in the middle." The answer is to elevate our perspective entirely. This is about moving from a mindset of employment to one of stewardship.
Stewardship says, "I am responsible for the overall success of this mission." It understands that my primary role is crucial, but my ultimate purpose is tied to the success of the whole. A steward knows their lane intimately but also keeps an eye on the rest of the road. They are driven by a desire to help the team get the best out of life and work.
Finding this "Stewardship Sweet Spot" requires a blend of courage and wisdom. It's about knowing when to stretch and when to stand firm. Here’s what that looks like in practice:
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Know Your Station, but Scan the Horizon. Master your craft. Be the absolute best you can be at your core responsibilities. This is the foundation of your contribution. But don't let that mastery become a blinder. Keep your head up. Understand how your work connects to others. Be aware of the team's pulse and the project's health.
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Trade "No" for "How?" Instead of the conversation-stopping "That's not my job," try a conversation-starting, "Wow, that looks tough. My plate is full right now, but how can I support you?" or "I don't have the expertise for that, but have you talked to Sarah? She's a wizard at this." This simple shift changes the dynamic from rejection to collaboration. It offers healing and acceptance instead of a hard edge.
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Ask Before You Act. For the budding Meddler in all of us, the solution is humility. Before jumping in, ask. "I noticed the build is failing. I have a little time and some ideas if you'd like a second pair of eyes." This respects the other person's ownership and expertise. It offers help without seizing control. It gives them the freedom to say "No, thanks, I've got it," which you must be willing to accept gracefully.
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Embrace "All Hands on Deck." There are moments of genuine crisis when job descriptions become temporarily irrelevant. The ship is sinking. In these moments, stewardship means grabbing the nearest bucket and bailing water, no questions asked. True team members recognize these emergencies and act with a unified purpose, trusting that roles and responsibilities will be sorted out once the storm has passed.
Ultimately, our work is a platform for us to become more than we are. It's an opportunity to build something meaningful and to grow in character alongside others. Choosing stewardship over lane-keeping or meddling isn't just about being a better employee; it's about being a better crewmate on this shared voyage. It's about having the courage to care about the entire ship, not just our small corner of it.