Mentorship in the workplace is a dying art, but it's one we can save

For many pop culture fans of my generation, what comes to mind when we think of "mentorship" is Mr Miyagi – the seemingly stern and aloof, but caring and compassionate sensei, played by Pat Morita in the 1984 film The Karate Kid. 

I always loved that his mode of instruction for 17-year-old Daniel was not through hyped-up, motivational speeches but through the calm, mundane, endless repetition of "wax on, wax off". What seems like a tedious chore of waxing a car becomes muscle memory, and later, mastery. 

More than four decades on, the original film stands as a reminder of a somewhat unpopular lesson in an increasingly fast-paced world: True growth can't be fast-tracked. It can be earned only through multiple cycles of effort, correction and patience. 

When I started out in my career 20 years ago, I had the privilege of having a boss who was generous with her time and patient instruction. 

She took me to client meetings, where I saw firsthand the challenges of managing conflicting expectations and difficult conversations. Eventually, she trusted me to lead pitches independently, coaching me silently from the sidelines and giving pointers behind the scenes.

Much of what I learnt under her tutelage I adopted when I started my own agency years later, and for those lessons, I am forever grateful.

WHAT HAPPENED TO MENTORING?

Today, that kind of personal, long-form mentorship is a rarity. 

When I started out, it was considered poor form to jump ship from a job after less than two years. Nowadays, it's common for young adults to leave within a year – especially if they feel like they're not seeing immediate growth or progression in their role or responsibilities.

But shortened job cycles do not allow the runway required for a proper apprenticeship. On top of that, they force many workplaces and leaders to prioritise efficiency and independence above all. 

With too much on our own plates, we send younger team members and new hires to workshops and webinars, and hope the results of self-directed learning can replace the personal instruction from someone who's been there, done that.

But there's no shortcut to real growth – and there's no true substitution for personalised mentoring. 

Mentorship helps provide the perspective that growth takes time. That progress is not always linear, but a cycle of successes and setbacks, of two steps forward and one step back. 

After nearly a decade on either side of the supervisor-subordinate spectrum, I've come to realise that no curriculum can replace the feedback loop that comes from a mentor's steady hand.

It's the only antidote to counter not just the inherent impatience of youth but also the broader culture of instant gratification. 

THE CASE FOR BRINGING MENTORSHIP BACK

A recent Deloitte study revealed that for Gen Zers in the workforce, the opportunity for learning and development is a top three priority when weighing their employment options. 

Young adults taking their first steps into the workforce are looking for perspective born out of experience. 

This goes beyond just acquiring technical knowledge or skill. They're not looking for someone to simply tell them what to do. They're looking for someone who can help them make sense of the challenges they're facing.

But mentorship isn't easy. We walk a tricky line between the instinct to protect our proteges versus the need to let them find their own way. 

Often, we'll find ourselves wanting to spare our juniors the pain of the same mistakes we've made. At the same time, we know that struggle is a necessary part of the journey.

For me, the question is this: Am I leaving someone enough space for growth while still offering them guardrails that keep them from burning out or giving up too soon?

Some years ago, a soft-spoken, shy young creative joined our team. Our agency is a raucous, loud environment with a lot of shared jokes and references – not a bad thing in and of itself, but it can be intimidating for newcomers, especially introverts. 

Within a week, I could see that while she was adjusting well to her tasks and responsibilities, she seemed uncomfortable with the team dynamics. Not unsettled or disturbed, but a little apprehensive.

Sitting her down for a direct chat, I learnt that she liked the job and the team just fine. She just felt like she wasn't "the right type" of personality for "advertising".

I explained to her that a good creative environment is never a one-size-fits-all type space, but that bringing diverse points of view and personality types would only strengthen us. All she needed to be was to be herself, but also allow us to be ourselves.

Our common ground didn't have to be the same sense of humour, or the same levels of "yapping" intensity. It could simply be this: "Let's all do the best work possible."

She took the advice to heart, and over the next few years grew to become a confident and articulate creative, well-liked and respected by her peers. She was still soft-spoken but found her voice, and her work spoke volumes.

It was a joy to witness her come into her own, rather than trying to fit someone else's mould of what a "good" creative should look, sound and act like. 

I BELIEVE YOU CAN FLY

The beauty of mentorship isn't found in control, but in witnessing transformation like this.

Seeing someone you once coached now run meetings with assured authority, or thrive elsewhere with the same confidence you once had to nurture in them – that's the kind of satisfaction that can't be matched by simply hitting key performance indicators.

However, mentorship takes time, and time is the one thing most workplaces don't have.

Nevertheless, it would do us all well to realise that the value of mentorship outlasts projects, titles and even companies as a whole.

When done right, mentorship strengthens both parties. It doesn't just keep younger colleagues grounded, it keeps older ones evolving.

After all, teaching someone else how to navigate change often reminds us how we learnt to do it in the first place. Sometimes, it can even go the other way: The newest of newbies can even inspire the most seasoned of veterans to think of new ways to approach or frame an old task, simply by virtue of having no prior knowledge or experience to rely upon.

Recently, I met a former team member who now runs her own thriving business. Wryly, she confessed – much to my amusement – that she sometimes hears my voice in her head during tough days, equal parts comfort and annoyance. 

That's all any mentor can hope for: to leave behind a voice that helps someone keep striving to be better, even when you're not in the room.

At least, that's my goal. Wax on, wax off.