Are you changing, or just moving?

Effort is an input. The question is about output, and specifically about whether the person doing the work is different at the end of the month than they were at the start.

By Nandan Gijare · 20 September 2026 · about 4 minutes

There is a moment early in the book where a stranger asks a twenty-two-year-old a question he cannot answer.

Arjun has been working harder than he has ever worked. Tutorials at night, documentation at weekends, staying late in an office that is quietly becoming less interested in him. A man he has never met, sitting on the fourth floor during a shoot, with bad coffee, asks him whether he is changing or just moving.

"I'm trying," Arjun said.
"That's not the same thing."The Amplifier, chapter three

Nobody asked me that question. That is why I put it in a book. I spent roughly three years arriving at it on my own, and most of those three years were spent doing things I did not need to do, going down paths I did not need to go down. The slowness taught me a great deal. I would still rather have had the question.

Effort is not evidence

Here is what I think is going on when someone says they are trying.

They are telling you about input. Hours at a desk, courses started, tools installed, tabs open. All of it real, all of it tiring, none of it an answer to the question that was actually asked. Because the question is about output, and specifically about a particular kind of output: whether the person doing the work is a different practitioner at the end of the month than they were at the start of it.

Motion is easy to mistake for change because it produces the same fatigue. You finish a Saturday of tutorials feeling as if you have done something. Sometimes you have. But the test is not how the Saturday felt. The test is whether, on Monday, you could do something you genuinely could not do on Friday, and whether you could explain what you did to a sceptical person who asked.

Most of the people I watched over those three years were moving. They had more tools than I did. They had strong opinions about which model was best that week. Their output arrived faster than mine and it read, on the surface, about as well. What they did not have was any change in judgement. Handed the same problem a year apart, they would have made the same decisions, except faster and with more polish on top.

What changing actually looks like

It is less dramatic than people expect, and it shows up in small places.

You notice yourself reaching for a tool later than you used to. Not out of principle. Because you have learned that the ten minutes you spend deciding what you actually want are the ten minutes that make the tool useful, and skipping them costs you an hour of correcting output that was confidently aimed at the wrong target.

You notice that you can say why a piece of work is good. Not that it reads well. Why it is right, against something you decided before you saw it.

You notice that when something goes wrong you have a view about where it went wrong, which is a different thing from having a patch.

None of that is visible on a CV. All of it is visible within about four minutes to anyone senior who asks you to walk them through your reasoning, which is the conversation that decides most careers and which almost nobody prepares for.

The uncomfortable part

You can be moving for years and never be told. That is the whole difficulty. Nothing in an ordinary working week is designed to surface it. Your output is accepted. Your appraisal says you are meeting expectations. Nobody sits you down and says your judgement has not grown since you joined, partly because it would be an unkind thing to say and partly because most managers are not watching for it.

The signal, when it finally comes, tends to come all at once and from outside. A restructure. A layoff. A younger colleague who is suddenly being asked the questions that used to come to you.

So the question has to be asked from inside. It is not a comfortable one, and I would not pretend it is. But it is cheap to ask, and you can ask it this week.

Pick something you finished in the last month. Not the best thing you did. Something ordinary. Ask yourself what you understand about that kind of work now that you did not understand before you started it. If the honest answer is nothing, you were moving.

That is not a verdict. It is a starting point, which is more than most people have.

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All articlesThe rest of the writing around the book.Take the AMQTwenty minutes. Find out which of the three you default to.The frameworkAll eight steps, in reference form.