A new book offers new age tips on how to refine one’s skills for the workplace

Eleonora is a mid-career professional. She has been working in the consumer goods industry for nearly 15 years. She is not only good at her job, but also proactive, aware of the trends and full of initiative. Over the last several years, as her industry started becoming more digital, she upskilled herself and started volunteering at work for the digital transformation team in her company. Presenting her learning journey at a few industry conferences, she built a good external reputation for herself, too. So, it was not a surprise when she started getting calls from headhunters. She wasn’t keen to move per se, she was enjoying her current job, but she was intrigued by a consulting firm. She had worked with consultants in her current company and was curious about the profession.

It was in this context that I met Eleonora. We had a mutual acquaintance who connected us, and she wanted my perspectives to help her decision-making.

“I am a consumer goods person through and through,” she started off, “I joined this industry straight out of college and have seen it evolve right before my eyes. I have grown with it, and I love it! Makes no sense to switch now, does it?” She paused as if waiting for me to reaffirm her point of view. She was here, with a stranger, a meeting she had gone to some lengths and ingenuity of networking to procure. She was buying me a coffee in a nice café, and from our initial small talk, it was clear that she had done her homework on me and seemed to know much about me. She hadn’t gone through all this trouble for an easy confirmation. Nor was I ready to just validate her views without understanding the full situation.

We had to dig in.

“Have you heard of the Red Thread?” I asked her.

Let me tell you two stories, each of which will illustrate one of the two defining features of the Red Thread.

The Minotaur is a fearsome monster in Greek mythology who has the body of a man and the head of a bull. He is the offspring of Pasiphae, who was the queen of Crete. Minos, the king of Crete, was ashamed of this creature who was his stepson and didn’t want him around, but he didn’t want to kill him either. So, he built a labyrinth – a most complicated maze from which no one could ever find a way out – as a house for the Minotaur.

Every year, seven men and seven women from Athens were required to go into this terrible labyrinth as food for the Minotaur. One year, Theseus, the prince of Athens, who had had enough of this terrible fate for his people, decided to venture into the maze himself in order to kill the monster. Theseus’ lover, the beautiful princess Ariadne, was the daughter of King Minos, and she knew well the labyrinth her father had built for her half-brother. She knew that even if Theseus managed to kill the Minotaur, he would never make it back out of the labyrinth.

Ariadne was clever, and she didn’t want to lose Theseus. As he set off into the labyrinth, she gave Theseus a red thread. Theseus was to unravel it as he ventured further and further into the maze, so he would never lose sight of the path he had traversed. Theseus, thus, with the help of Ariadne, not only managed to kill the Minotaur and save the lives of his people in Athens but also to come back from the labyrinth alive and well.

The red thread saved him.

A red thread, at its simplest, is a unifying element that traces our path in life. Just as Ariadne’s Red Thread showed Theseus his path, our red threads can show us the path we have traversed. This mythological element has worked its way into many European cultures, and it is common, when you work in the Germanic or Scandinavian countries, to hear someone ask you about the red thread. Depending on the context, this could mean the unifying thread that holds together a presentation, a design or even your life story.

To know where you are headed next, you must know where you come from. And the line that shows this clearly is the Red Thread. In my variation here, this extends into the future, connecting it to the strategy you define for yourself. Before we look at how to do this in practice, there is one more story I want to tell you.

In the eighteenth century, maritime trade and sailing culture predominated in civil and economic life. Fortunes were made and lost by the sea, and people’s ability to navigate it. Ships were valuable, of course, but there was another valued commodity: rope. High-quality rope was in short supply and therefore subject to theft. The best quality rope at the time was made by the British Royal Navy.

Often referred to as the Rogue’s Yarn, one of the earliest literary references to this high-quality naval rope appears in Wolfgang Goethe’s third novel, Elective Affinities. Goethe writes:

There is, we are told, a curious contrivance in the service of the English marine. The ropes in use in the Royal Navy, from the largest to the smallest, are so twisted that a Red Thread runs through them from end to end, which cannot be extracted without undoing the whole; and by which the smallest pieces may be recognised as belonging to the Crown.

In all ropes made by the Royal Navy, a red thread was inserted, an inconspicuous but important message braided into the rope itself. This Red Thread was a part of all ropes made by the Royal Navy for centuries. It was a deterrent for any thieves who did not want to incur the wrath of the Crown, but more importantly, it was a guarantee of quality – a unique identifier.

You want to craft a strategy that is uniquely yours. Your Red Thread, as you braid it into your strategy, makes sure it is a representation of who you are. Just as even the smallest piece of rope contains an element of the Royal Navy identifier, even a figment of your life or work could be considered to represent you.

Excerpted with permission from Strategy For Life: Seven Steps to Personal and Professional Success, Surya Ramkumar, Penguin India.