Published March 2026
What do you do for a living? You knew this question would come — rubbing shoulders at a Cocktail Party, all other pleasantries have already been exhausted;
it is time to move into the decisive questions. Biting your tongue not to respond “breathing”,
your mind scrambles for an answer that is concise, exciting, and honest.
As a Compensation Manager you’re not subject to the luxuries of a one-word reply that does the trick – this is reserved for the occupations of “doctor”, “lawyer”, and “firefighter”. So, you respond in three parts.
“I’m a Compensation Manager at [company]”. This is the first part and awfully dull, regardless of your exact job title, be it “Head of Rewards” or “Reward Analyst”. Stating the facts is necessary but it will also encourage your conversation partner to quickly finish their drink or display signs of urinary urgency readying an excuse to move on. Before that happens, you move to part two:
“This means I manage topics such as CEO pay, Equal Pay, or bonus systems...”. You can pick any topic from your job to make your point – talking to a lawyer you might want to mention “regulatory compensation in financial services” or conversing with a nurse you could focus on “implementing a living wage in the organisation”. That’s where your partners genuine interest is tested and your chance for an exciting exchange is placed. If they care to hear more, there is a wealth of topics to cover in Rewards – from analytics, large datasets, and coding to company culture, negotiations, and emotions. Here, part three kicks-in.
“...and I like to think about ethics in pay, how deep-sea divers are paid, or why people attach their self-worth to their compensation”. Everything is on the table as compensation touches many parts of the world – economics, corporate governance, psychology, IT, and much more. As you’re getting carried away by the complexities of these fields while eloquently elaborating on how they are all tied together you realize that the only limit in Rewards is your curiosity – and your partner’s propensity listening to the marvels of compensation management.
Politely stepping back you return the question “What do you do for a living?” and hope their answer is not a cheeky “breathing”.
(This is article 1 of 3 in the series answering “what is compensation management” where I draw-up a reply that goes beyond schoolbook-responses to reflect the truly expansive nature of a Compensation Manager’s job.)
You can find Part 2 here.
You can find Part 3 here.
I have a personal story about the question “What do you do for a living?” going catastrophically wrong –
it especially makes sense if you know some German.
My wife and I were spending the last day of motorbike training at a small race track. The event was a social gathering of biker friends and their families. It has been my second time riding with this group of experienced motorbike trainers and skilled riders. I was (and still am) a beginner on the track, but I was determined to show how much I had improved since the previous year.
To my delight, several people actually commented on my progress. In fairness, I couldn’t have had a lower baseline riding-level so there was no other direction than improvement. At the end of the day I was happily loading my bike into the car, satisfied that the event had gone well and that nobody — and no bike — had been hurt.
That’s when someone asked the fateful question.
I used to work in consulting and usually introduced myself as a Compensation Consultant — in German, a “Vergütungsberater”.
While I was still busy loading the bike, the others had already finished packing and gathered around the car with my wife.
Someone asked her instead: “So what does your husband actually do?”
My lovely wife answered.
The group immediately erupted in laughter as the men roared in their booming voices.
“Verhütungsberater?!” (Contraception Consultant) one of them asked having misheard a single letter.
“Oh, no – Vergütungsberater” (Compensation Consultant) my wife replied, standing opposite the group,
being 6 months pregnant, boasting a proudly protruding baby belly.
It is fair to say that at the end of the event they did not remember my improvements in riding but certainly remember
my job title.