What Friends Can Teach Us About Success at Work

When Friends ended in 2004, Jennifer Aniston was one of the most recognizable people on television. She had spent ten years playing Rachel Green, a character that millions of people had grown up watching. The show was enormously successful, and so was she.

Aniston went on to have a successful film career, but it would be another 15 years before she returned to television with The Morning Show, a series that arguably gave her another role as culturally significant as Rachel Green.

Matt LeBlanc had a different experience. When Friends ended, NBC gave his character, Joey Tribbiani, a spinoff. On paper, it probably seemed like a reasonable bet. Joey was one of the show's most popular characters, LeBlanc was a familiar face, and there was already an audience that loved him.

But Joey lasted just two seasons.

That doesn't mean LeBlanc wasn't a talented actor. He went on to do other successful projects, including Episodes, for which he won a Golden Globe. It does, however, raise an interesting question about what made Friends so successful in the first place.

Was it the individual actors, or was it something about having those six particular people working together?

I would argue it was both.

The cast had chemistry that would have been difficult to manufacture. Their comedic timing, the way their characters complemented one another, and their ability to make even ordinary conversations entertaining were what made the show work. Every actor contributed something, but the collective result was greater than what any one of them could have produced alone.

And when they went their separate ways, that chemistry didn't necessarily follow them.

I've always thought there's an interesting parallel between that kind of success and what happens when people change jobs.

How Much of Your Success Is Actually Yours?

Imagine someone who has spent ten years at a company. They're consistently rated as a top performer. They've received promotions, earned bonuses, led successful projects, and developed a reputation as someone who gets things done.

Eventually, another company recruits them. The opportunity comes with a better title, more money, and the chance to take on greater responsibilities.

Based on everything they've accomplished, there's every reason to believe they'll do well.

Except they don't.

Six months into the new job, they're struggling. Projects are behind schedule, their manager is frustrated, and the results that once came so easily are suddenly much harder to achieve.

What happened?

It's tempting to assume the person wasn't as good as their previous employer thought. Maybe they were taking credit for other people's work. Maybe their accomplishments were exaggerated. Maybe they were simply promoted beyond their abilities.

Those things certainly happen, but I think there's another explanation that deserves more consideration.

They may have been genuinely excellent at their previous job because they were working in an environment that allowed them to be excellent.

Perhaps they had a manager who understood their strengths and knew how to use them. Their colleagues may have been particularly good at things they weren't, creating a team where everyone compensated for one another's weaknesses.

Maybe the company had established processes that made it easier to get things done. Or perhaps its reputation opened doors that would have been much harder to open elsewhere.

None of that diminishes what the employee accomplished. But it does suggest that their success wasn't entirely independent of the people and resources around them.

And when those circumstances changed, so did their performance.

Why Employers Want to Know What You Actually Did

Having spent years recruiting and making hiring decisions, I can tell you that one of the challenges employers face is figuring out how much of a candidate's past success will translate into the position they're trying to fill.

A résumé might tell me that someone increased revenue by 40%, reduced operating costs by $2 million, or led a major organizational transformation.

Those are impressive accomplishments, but they don't tell me everything I need to know.

I still want to understand how those results happened.

Was the revenue increase driven by a strategy the candidate developed, or did the company introduce a new product that practically sold itself? Did the candidate identify and implement the cost reductions, or were those decisions made by someone else? When they say they led a transformation, what decisions were actually theirs?

This is where interviews become especially important.

Behavioral questions, work samples, case studies, and technical assessments can help employers understand what someone contributed personally, how they approach problems, and whether they can apply those abilities in a different setting.

Of course, no interview or assessment can perfectly predict whether someone will succeed. And a person who interviews beautifully can still struggle once they're hired.

But the objective is to get beyond the accomplishments listed on a résumé and understand the person behind them.

There's a difference between someone who was part of a successful outcome and someone who understands what made that outcome possible.

The strongest candidates can usually explain both their own contributions and the contributions of the people around them.

Job Seekers Should Be Asking the Same Questions

I think this is where the conversation becomes particularly important for people considering a career move.

We spend so much time preparing candidates to convince employers that they're the right person for the job. We work on their résumés, develop interview stories, identify their accomplishments, and figure out how to communicate their value.

All of that matters.

But I also think candidates need to spend more time understanding why they've been successful in the first place.

If you've spent the last eight years working for an exceptional manager who gives you considerable autonomy, how well would you perform under someone who wants to approve every decision?

If you're accustomed to having a fully staffed department, what happens when you join a company where you're expected to do much of that work yourself?

If you've built your career at a company with a recognizable brand and established customer relationships, how comfortable would you be working somewhere that has neither?

If much of your success has come from collaborating with colleagues you've known for years, what happens when you have to build those relationships from scratch?

These aren't reasons to avoid changing jobs. They're reasons to be more thoughtful about which opportunities you pursue.

I frequently tell clients that an interview should be as much about evaluating the employer as it is about convincing the employer to hire you.

Understanding the company's expectations is important, but so is understanding the environment in which you'll be expected to meet them.

You should know what resources are available, how decisions are made, what kind of support you'll receive, and what success actually looks like.

Otherwise, you may find yourself accepting a position that looks like a natural next step on paper but requires you to succeed under completely different circumstances.

There's Nothing Wrong With Being Part of a Great Team

One thing I want to be careful about is the suggestion that someone who succeeds because of a strong team is somehow less capable than someone who succeeds independently.

I don't believe that at all.

In fact, some of the most valuable employees I've worked with weren't necessarily the strongest individual performers. They were the people who made everyone around them better.

They knew when to lead, when to collaborate, when to ask for help, and when to let someone else take the lead. They understood how their work contributed to a larger objective, and they didn't need to be the person receiving all the credit.

Those are valuable skills, particularly in leadership roles.

The problem arises when someone doesn't recognize how much their success depends on those relationships and circumstances.

If you believe every accomplishment is entirely the result of your own abilities, you're more likely to underestimate what you'll need to reproduce those results somewhere else.

And employers can make the same mistake.

Hiring someone from a successful company doesn't mean you're hiring everything that made that company successful. You're hiring one person who operated within that environment.

It's worth understanding what they brought to it, what they benefited from, and what they'll need to be effective in yours.

Maybe the Chemistry Matters More Than We Think

I keep coming back to Friends because I think it's such a recognizable example of how this works.

The six actors were talented before they came together, and they remained talented after the show ended. Some went on to extraordinary individual success. Others had careers that were less commercially successful but still included excellent work.

What none of them could simply take with them was the exact combination of people, writing, timing, and chemistry that made Friends what it was.

That wasn't a personal failure, but more of a reminder that success is often the product of circumstances we don't fully appreciate until those circumstances change.

The same thing happens in our careers.

You can be exceptionally good at your job and still struggle at your next company. You can have an impressive track record and discover that the approach that worked beautifully for years isn't particularly effective in a new environment.

That doesn't erase your accomplishments or make you less talented.

It simply means that your abilities are only one part of what determines your success.

So before you accept your next job, think about what made you successful in your last one. Consider the people who supported you, the resources you had available, and the circumstances that allowed you to perform at your best.

Then ask whether the opportunity you're considering will give you a reasonable chance to do it again.

Sometimes you're the star of the show. Sometimes you're part of an exceptional ensemble. And sometimes the reason you're so good at what you do is that you're surrounded by people who make you better.