“Most organisations say they reward talent.
Golf, as it is meant to be played, is a game of skill. It rewards practice. Experience matters. Coaching helps. Over time, you get better. Not quickly. Not easily. But predictably.
It’s not about brute strength. It’s about judgement. Consistency. Technique. Knowing when to take a risk and when to play safe.
The course is designed to test you. Bunkers are placed with care. Water hazards wait for the overconfident. But the rules are clear. The better player, over time, usually wins.
In theory, careers work the same way.
You build your skills. You gain experience. You learn from mistakes. You get some coaching. And gradually, you improve your performance and move up.
That’s the theory.
But there is another version of golf.
Crazy golf.
Here, the rules are less clear. The obstacles are unpredictable. The outcome often has more to do with luck than judgement. You can hit a perfect shot and still end up nowhere. Or mishit the ball and somehow get a hole in one.
Experience helps. Just not enough. Coaching? Not really.
For many people, careers feel much closer to crazy golf than the real thing.
We like to think the best player wins. But research on social mobility suggests otherwise. Where you start still has a habit of shaping where you finish. People from more advantaged backgrounds remain far more likely to end up in senior roles, regardless of ability.
Then there is access.
In theory, anyone can play golf. In practice, not everyone gets invited to join the club.
Membership fees. Time. Connections. Knowing how things are done. The quiet word in the clubhouse after the 18th hole.
Sound familiar?
Organisations like to think their opportunities are open to all. But access to the “course” can be uneven. Informal networks matter. Sponsorship matters. Being visible to the right people matters.
And sometimes, the most important conversations still happen away from the formal setting. Not on crazy golf courses. On the other kind. The one with the clubhouse.
If you are not a member, you are not on the course.
Meanwhile, for others, it’s a different experience entirely. You turn up. You’re handed a club. You play the course as best you can. You might even enjoy it. Many do. But no one is offering you membership. And no one is discussing your next move over the final putt.
Most organisations are probably a bit of all three. A fair test of skill for some. A private club for others. And, for many, something closer to crazy golf.
That’s the bit we don’t always talk about.
Most organisations say they reward talent.
It’s worth checking which course people are actually playing.
Blair Mcpherson former Director author and blogger blairmcpherson.co.uk
