The Myth of the Good Government Job (GGJ): What We Were Promised vs. What We’re Living
“They sold us a wooden nickel.” That’s what my grandmother used to say when someone bought into a promise that wasn’t real. That phrase kept echoing in my mind as I watched brilliant, mission-driven public servants lose their jobs, burn out, or quietly fade away—despite doing everything “right.”
And so I gave the phenomenon a name: The Myth of the GGJ—The Good Government Job.
Yes, I coined the term because I’ve lived the lie, seen the fallout, and realized we need language to name what so many of us are silently navigating. For decades, we were taught that if we could just land a solid government job—especially a federal one—we’d be safe. Stable. Set for life.
But that promise? It’s crumbling. And the myth needs to be exposed.
What We Were Promised
The Myth of the GGJ was never just about salary or benefits. It was about a social contract—an identity rooted in purpose, public service, and long-term security. We believed in a system that promised:
Job protection if we performed well.
A retirement plan that honored our commitment.
Predictable promotion pathways.
Respect for tenure, skill, and service.
Insulation from sudden layoffs or political interference.
In return, we gave loyalty. We accepted the bureaucracy. We sacrificed private-sector pay. We leaned into service.
But now, many of us are waking up to a different reality.
What We’re Living Now
In today’s landscape, the “Good Government Job” feels increasingly like a fantasy. We’re seeing:
Reductions in Force (RIFs) sweep through departments without warning.
Contractors replacing career civil servants.
Talented professionals unable to convert their titles or duties into private-sector relevance.
Toxic leadership protected by red tape.
Innovation choked by outdated systems.
Emotional and physical health declines due to burnout, anxiety, and over-surveillance.
Many of us stayed because we believed in the mission. But belief can’t buy groceries. And pensions don’t protect your peace when you’re demoralized, disrespected, and discarded.
We Were Trained to Stay—Not to Translate
One of the most painful realizations about the Myth of the GGJ is this: we were never prepared to leave.
Government workers often possess elite-level skills—strategic thinking, crisis management, regulatory navigation, policy development—but the system does little to help us package or explain those skills outside of government.
We know how to write a memo for a Deputy Secretary. We don’t always know how to craft a résumé that resonates in the private sector.
We know how to lead interagency working groups. We don’t always know how to translate that into “project management” or “cross-functional team leadership.”
And so we stay stuck—not because we lack capacity, but because we lack the toolkit to transition.
Why I Coined the Term
I coined The Myth of the GGJ because I was tired of watching colleagues—especially those from marginalized backgrounds—believe that staying was the only noble, safe, or legitimate choice.
I coined it because I realized the system has conditioned many of us to believe that loyalty is synonymous with silence. That stability should be enough—even if you’re depleted, dismissed, or disillusioned.
But we were made for more than survival. And our gifts deserve more than stagnation.
Reframing the Narrative: What We Actually Need
It’s time to get real—and build better. Here’s what we need instead of myths:
Career mobility literacy—understanding how to pivot, when to leap, and what language to use.
Workplace cultures rooted in psychological safety, not politics or fear.
Strategic departure frameworks—tools for exiting systems without losing identity or income.
Narrative power—language that honors your public service while opening doors elsewhere.
Peer communities that validate your experience and support your evolution.
You Don’t Owe the System Your Health or Your Silence
If you’ve ever felt like your GGJ has become a gilded cage, this message is for you.
If you’re watching your agency collapse under its own weight while you carry the emotional labor—this message is for you.
If you’re afraid to leave because you don’t know how your years of service “translate”—this message is especially for you.
Let me be clear: believing in the mission was never your mistake.
Believing the myth that the system would take care of you in return? That’s the lie. And it’s one I refuse to let continue unchecked.
This is the Wake-Up Call
You can love public service and still leave it. You can honor your contributions without martyring your future. You can demand more.
I coined The Myth of the GGJ to help us start telling the truth—out loud, with courage, and with clarity. Because if we don’t name it, we can’t fix it. And if we don’t fix it, we’ll keep losing the very people who once believed in it most.
Join the Conversation:
Have you lived through the Myth of the GGJ? Are you still caught inside it—or breaking free? I’d love to hear your story in the comments.