There is a conversation that most professionals avoid having with themselves, and it usually begins the moment someone else’s decision lands in their inbox. It arrives as a restructure, a merger, or an announcement about a “difficult trading period”. An organisation that promised growth suddenly declares that it must “streamline for efficiency”, which is corporate poetry for the fact that some of you will not be here next quarter.
- +Your skill is the brand: Why every professional needs a Plan B that pays
Here is the uncomfortable truth.
Here is the uncomfortable truth. You can be loyal, punctual, exceptional and indispensable, and still be dispensable.Redundancy is rarely a verdict on your talent. It is a verdict on a balance sheet you never saw and on decisions made in rooms you were never invited into.Businesses go bankrupt, departments are outsourced, and entire industries are disrupted by a piece of software with a friendly name. None of it asks your permission first.
The question, therefore, is not whether you are good at your job. The question is this: if your job disappeared tomorrow, would your skill disappear with it?
We have been conditioned to see employment as the destination, when in reality it is simply one distribution channel for your expertise. Your employer buys your skill wholesale. It purchases forty hours of your week, packages them neatly into a salary, and takes the margin on everything you produce. That is not exploitation; that is commerce. However, it should also be an education, because if a corporation can build revenue on the supply of your expertise, it stands to reason that consumers can benefit from the demand for it, too.
The accountant who balances millions for a firm can balance the books for the bakery on the high street. The HR professional who designs talent frameworks for a multinational can transform the CV of a graduate who has been ghosted by every applicant tracking system in the land. The project manager who delivers programmes for a blue-chip client can help a bride deliver a wedding without a single spreadsheet-related meltdown. The skill does not change; only the customer does.
This is what it means to fully utilise your skill as a side gig. It is not a hobby, and it is not a hustle you whisper about in corridors. It is a small, strategic, professionally sustained packaged expression of the very thing you are already brilliant at.
Let us address the elephant in the open-plan office. Some professionals treat their employment like an exclusive relationship, as though building anything of their own would be an act of betrayal. Meanwhile, the organisation has never once promised you forever. Read your contract; it certainly has an exit clause. You can be fully committed to your employer from nine to five and still allow your career to see other people in the evenings, professionally speaking, of course.
The boundary, and it is an important one, is a conflict of interest. Integrity is the foundation of any brand worth building. Do not poach clients, do not trade on your employer’s intellectual property, and do not compete with the hand that currently pays you. Check your contract, have the honest conversation if you need to, and build in a lane that is unmistakably yours. A side gig built on borrowed assets is not a Plan B; it is a liability with a logo. Where there is no conflict, however, there is no crime in multiplying what you already carry. In fact, there is wisdom in it. The most secure professionals I meet are not the ones with the longest tenure; they are the ones with the most transferable proof that their skill works outside the building. Not by carrying the recognisable global brands under the belt as validation, but by validating their expertise based on the very organisations that have purchased their supply and leveraged their deliverables.
This is not a call to resign dramatically and build an empire overnight. Grand exits may make strong LinkedIn posts, but they are poor financial planning. Start small and deliberately. Begin with one client, one service and one clear offer, so people know exactly what to come to you for. Test your pricing and learn what consumers truly value about your skill, because it is often different from what your employer values. That insight alone makes the experiment worthwhile. What you are really building is optionality. When the market shifts, and it will, you are not starting from zero. You have a client base, a reputation, a portfolio and, most importantly, evidence that your expertise holds its value independently of any employer’s letterhead. Redundancy stops being a cliff edge and becomes a junction.
Organisations thrive on the supply of your expertise, but your skill meets the demand of consumers. Sit with that for a moment, because it reframes everything.You are not merely an employee with a job title on loan. You are a brand with a product, and every brand worth its salt has more than one revenue stream and more than one route to market.
The future of work will not be preserved by institutions. It will be preserved by professionals who understood, early enough, that their security was never in the building. It was in the briefcase; it walked in with them every morning, and it walks out with them every evening, whether the organisation survives or not.
Therefore, do the audit. Identify the skill you are already paid for, find the consumer who needs it in a smaller and sharper capacity, and package it with the same excellence you give your employer. Do this not because you are planning to leave, but because you are planning, full stop.
Your Plan A deserves your commitment, and your Plan B deserves your attention. Your skill, quite frankly, deserves a bigger stage than one payroll, so invest in it accordingly.
Jennifer Oyelade MIRP is the director of Transquisite Consulting Group, an international HR strategy and executive search consultancy operating across the UK, Nigeria, and Sub-Saharan Africa
