Most careers don’t stall because people fail—they stall because people stop learning. Complacency erodes relevance over time, while curiosity and adaptability sustain it. In a world of constant change, learning isn’t optional—it’s what keeps careers alive.
As professionals, many of us become complacent in our habits and our knowledge. We stay informed enough to function—news headlines, industry updates, surface-level awareness—but we stop intentionally reinvesting in ourselves. We stop refreshing our fundamentals. We stop challenging our assumptions. We stop changing our minds. And over time, we fade.
Very few people become professionals in sports or entertainment, fields where relevance must be earned every single day. In those areas, training, reinvention, and evolution are not optional. When people fall off, it’s rarely just because they got older. It’s because they stopped adapting. They relied on what once worked.
The greatest performers stay relevant longer because they never stop working at it. Michael Jordan didn’t extend his dominance by repeating the same game—he refined it. He got stronger in the gym and added a mid-range jumper. The Byron Russell crossover in the Finals—no dunks, just all net. He evolved.
Most professionals don’t approach their careers this way.
We go to school. We get our first job. We learn aggressively early on. Then titles grow, compensation increases, and learning slows. Experience becomes a shield. Familiarity becomes a crutch. And eventually, relevance erodes.
This is how careers stall—not from incompetence, but from complacency.
Much has been written about Millennials and Gen Z—often critically. They are labeled as disengaged, entitled, or unrealistic. Many leaders frame the conversation as a generational failure rather than a leadership one.
Truly though, they want what most humans have always wanted—meaning and relevance.
As Daniel Pink outlines in the book Drive, modern motivation is not just about rewards and punishments. Motivation 3.0 is fueled by autonomy, mastery, and purpose. The difference today is tolerance. Many people are far less willing to accept empty promises, unclear purpose, or stagnant growth.
Technology has fundamentally changed the contract between people and work. Work can now invade life, but people can also leave. Burnout is more visible, more discussed, and more normalized than it has ever been.
When learning stops, purpose fades. When purpose fades, commitment erodes.
This is not a generational problem; it’s a relevance problem.
Organizations that fail to create learning, growth, and meaning don’t lose people because they aren’t competitive enough. They lose them because they stop feeling worth investing in. People want to grow. If they can’t grow here, they’ll grow somewhere else.
And that reality sets the stage for everything that follows.
As a people leader and HR professional, I’ve reviewed countless individual development plans. Many are well-intentioned. Most are incomplete.
They focus almost exclusively on the next role. The next title. The next paycheck. What’s missing is growth for growth’s sake.
The problem with ambition anchored only to a position is that once you achieve it, the victory is short-lived. Promotion happens. You get that first paycheck, and soon your lifestyle catches up. The excitement fades. And suddenly, there’s nothing left pulling you forward—or worse, the next milestone feels too far away to achieve.
We often reference the Peter Principle, the idea that people get promoted one role too far into incompetence. What stops most people isn’t incompetence at all. It’s complacency.
“I’m here. I’m comfortable. I know how this works. Why change?”
The danger is that the world doesn’t stop changing just because you did. Growth has no finish line. And when learning becomes optional, irrelevance becomes inevitable.
In prior writing, I’ve talked about the idea of becoming irreplaceable. Not in an ego-driven way, but in a value-driven way. Irreplaceable people don’t hoard information. They don’t rely on tenure. They don’t protect outdated expertise. They stay relevant.
Relevance comes from curiosity. From adaptability. From the discipline of learning even when you no longer need to. The most dangerous moment in a career is not when you don’t know enough—it’s when you believe you know it all.
Early in my career, I was assigned as an accountability partner to a very senior leader who had just received his 360 feedback. The results were clear: highly capable, deeply experienced—and leaving strained relationships and disengaged teams in his wake.
In our first meeting, he looked at me and said, “I’m a vice president. You’ve never led people. I got here by doing things my way. Why would I change—and what advice could you possibly give me?”
He wasn’t wrong about my experience. But experience goes both ways.
I paused and said, “You’re right. I’ve never led people. But that also makes me unbiased. I don’t know what I don’t know, and that gives me a different perspective on what ‘good’ actually looks like.”
That conversation changed our working relationship. Not because I had all the answers, but because he was willing to learn. Leadership doesn’t break down because people stop being capable. It breaks down because they stop being curious.
One of the most unexpected accelerators of my own learning came from coaching youth sports.
The moment you step into a coaching role, especially in a sport you didn’t grow up mastering, you are forced back into learning mode. Drills. Practice plans. Skill development. Team dynamics.
You don’t get to rely on your title. The kids don’t care. Trust me, if you don’t know what you’re doing, it shows immediately, and they take advantage quickly.
Coaching forces humility, preparation, and reflection. You try something. It doesn’t work. You adjust, learn, and try again.
That cycle—plan, execute, observe, refine—is exactly what great professionals do. And yet, many leaders abandon it once they reach senior roles. Ironically, the moment you stop practicing learning is often the moment people stop learning from you.
When people hear “continuous learning,” they often assume it requires an executive MBA, a certification, or a formal program. Those are all valid paths, but they are not the only paths.
Learning is simpler and more organic than that.
Read a book. Listen to a podcast. Watch a documentary. Explore a topic outside your function. Study something that has nothing to do with your job. Most of us don’t lack time. We waste the time we actually have. We doom-scroll. We fill quiet moments with noise. And then we tell ourselves we’re too busy to grow.
One of the best reminders I ever heard was this: You’ll find every excuse not to clean your desk until you lose your phone in the pile. Then you’ll suddenly find the time.
Learning works the same way. If it matters, you’ll make space for it.
Personally, I swapped workout music for audiobooks. I listen at 1.5x speed. I use commute time. Early mornings. Small windows. The result is dozens of books a year, without “finding” extra time.
The compounding effect is real.
Some of the most impactful insights I’ve applied at work came from learning completely outside of work.
While reading Love & Respect, a book focused on marriage, I was dealing with a senior leader who was avoiding a subordinate after a tense interaction. He insisted he wouldn’t engage until he received an apology, and he asked me who should resolve the issue.
Drawing directly from the book, I said, “The more mature person.”
It landed immediately. Not because of hierarchy, but because of responsibility.
Learning transfers when you’re open to it. And often, the lessons we need most come from places we least expect.
Organizations love to talk about culture. Engagement. Learning. Innovation. Most struggle to execute any of them. Engagement is not a program. It’s an outcome.
Culture isn’t hard. People just have blind spots. And learning organizations are built with intention, not by declaration.
True learning cultures share common traits:
People give organizations a gift every day: their talent, time, and energy. Leaders who stop learning send a clear message: growth is optional here. And people respond accordingly.
In the age of AI, the risk of stagnation has never been higher or more visible. Tools are evolving faster than roles. Capabilities are changing faster than job descriptions. Leaders who choose fear, cynicism, or avoidance are making a decision, whether they realize it or not.
The future belongs to the curious. Learning is no longer a personal virtue. It’s a professional obligation.
As a leader, I talk openly about what I’m learning. Not to signal intelligence, but to reinforce humility. Teaching something forces understanding for the learner. Sharing learning invites dialogue. Dialogue builds safety.
Leaders who admit they’re learning don’t look weak. They look human. And human leaders create teams that grow.
I still remember reading 10% Happier during a period of burnout in my career to learn how to meditate. That single act made me a better leader, parent, and person. I talked openly about mindfulness and meditation with my team at the time, despite the funny looks I got.
Learning compounds in ways performance metrics can’t measure.
Relevance is not guaranteed by tenure. Irreplaceability is not earned once. Growth does not happen accidentally.
The moment you stop learning is the moment you start becoming irrelevant. You start fading a little more each day.
The leaders who matter most are those who refuse to let that happen.
Delek is proud to be certified by HRCI. To learn more about HRCI organizational certifications based on ISO standards and to certify your company too, visit business.hrci.org.
Michael “Keith” Cutter, SPHR, is the Vice President of Talent Strategy at Delek US Holdings Inc., a downstream energy company. A licensed attorney in Texas, Keith has over 15 years of experience in human resources and labor relations. Passionate about culture and leadership, Keith has led strategic initiatives in talent management, diversity, and organizational development, primarily in the oil and gas industry.