Career Transition: A liminal space

When we seek out new career opportunities, the complexity of the unknown requires different formulations and conclusions.

Andre Bressan

Woman with backpack facing the challenge of crossing unknown terrain

Recently, I was given just under 3,000 characters to describe my career. Compressing 25 years into a little over 400 words was no small task—I needed half of those words just to talk about the last six months. That brief text led to an invitation to write this essay on career transition.

When I received the request, I revisited my text and looked more closely at the transitions rather than at my career itself. I remembered the many changes that had taken place in the past and reflected on how I had changed my trajectory—and myself—so many times in this process.

I tried to relive those moments, and I realized how much ambiguity is involved in these transitions. Transitioning is more of an experience than an experiment, because there are no set rules.

The word ‘transition,’ from its Latin root, calls the idea of crossing to mind—of moving from one state to another by passing through something. And it is that ‘something’ that I am going to talk about.

After all, if you really want to change paths, even within the same career, it is only natural to feel some uncertainty and to seek clarity. It is between these two extremes that you have to navigate.

And remember, there are no simple solutions for complex situations—at least none that I am aware of. In this sense, transition involves what is often called “liminal space.”

In anthropology, a liminal space is the symbolic zone of transition between two worlds. Just as the breaking waves on a beach form a liminal space between the sand and the ocean, it is not a boundary to be crossed but an experience that has to be lived through.

As we accumulate experience and expertise in our fields, much of the complexity ends up being condensed into more elaborate and better-defined processes over which we have some degree of control.

For an experienced scientist, no matter how complicated the processes may be, they are straightforward: supervising research, formulating a thesis, developing a project and submitting it for peer review, applying for funding, securing grants, getting publications approved, and presenting reports.

In short, the parameters are set and everything makes sense. A well-trained scientist is simply expected to align the elements in a logical and competent sequence.

However, when we venture into the uncertain, complexity emerges. Instead of simple analysis and response, it demands different formulations and conclusions, often reached through trial and error.

Complex environments

David Snowden, a British researcher and former IBM executive, is the creator of Cynefin, a conceptual framework designed to support decision-making in complex environments.

In his methodology, he identifies three primary domains:

1. the ordered (the obvious and the complicated);
2. the complex, and
3. the chaotic.

And it is precisely at the intersection of these domains that we find the liminal spaces, through which elements transition and where the effects of that transition are integrated.

Snowden states that a liminal state can be disorienting and anxiety-inducing, but it is also where opportunities and options emerge. The beauty of transition lies in knowing how to navigate this ambivalence.

This in-between state between the complex and the complicated is iterative by nature.

Here, we can partially suspend our judgment, keep our options open, and allow the new to emerge. It’s like crossing a river by tentatively feeling for the rocks along the riverbed, without knowing exactly where to step.

But unlike in the past, today you can change career paths and direction without necessarily derailing.

I imagine that if you have come this far with me, you may be considering a career change. But from here on, all I can offer is my company as I reflect on what has worked for me.

In general, do not act rashly. Do not venture out without first looking carefully at the world around you. Try to let go of your certainties—and your expectations—both good and bad. Use your senses to fully experience what you are feeling.

Ask people who have already made a career change about their experiences. Then think about what you have already accomplished, not the titles you have been given.

After all, it is not classifications and labels that will guarantee your success—or even your survival. This is perhaps the most difficult exercise for professionals who work in environments that demand intense specialized dedication.

The question is: which of the so-called “transferable skills” can you take with you from where you are to where you want to go?

Which skills are you willing to develop?

Unfortunately, there is far more talk about success and failure than about the transition process itself. The real risk is not in the outcome, but in the process.

That is why I have tried to mobilize your emotions, your fears, and your dreams, because they are the least discussed aspect when we talk about careers.

Career transitions, like any transition in life, involve discomfort, excitement, and nostalgia. They are erratic and rarely binary.

Even so, we are in constant transition in our careers; we just do not always admit it. We change scope, function, and role—not just area.

Finally, I want to say that among so many emotions, loneliness does not have to be one of them. Seek out other people—a mentor, a friend, a sponsor. Lean on others; take shelter.

If you intend to follow a path that others have already taken, ask questions and go for it. If not, be patient with yourself and take things slowly. Embrace your failures, and learn from them.

Seek comfort when you need it, but also be bold. Welcome the new and ask yourself:

Can you identify the skills you already have?
Are you clear about how they can help you in your new challenge?
What new skills are you willing to develop from scratch?

There are many reasons why someone might choose to abandon a predictable path that is already well underway and pursue something else.

If the motivation is an interest in something new, I call that a positive reason—a question of desire. If it is about getting away from something that no longer inspires you, from a toxic environment, or from a disappointment—however legitimate—that is a reason rooted in avoidance, which I consider negative.

After all the questions and answers, you will no longer be the same person on the other side. You will be a novice again in that area, and you have to get there in one piece.

Take care, see you on the other side.

Andre Bressan is a pediatrician with ten years of experience in the pharmaceutical industry. He is currently the CMIO at rapha.health, which develops digital solutions to connect patients and healthcare professionals, and he also works as a consultant, mentor, and speaker on Medical Affairs and Digital Health.

Opinion pieces do not necessarily reflect the views of Science Arena and Einstein Hospital Israelita.

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