The Other Side. The Idea.

In roughly half of my consultations with corporate executives, the same phrase comes up at some point. The wording varies, but the meaning is always the same: "I'm thinking about moving to a private company." Sometimes it's said with confidence, sometimes cautiously, sometimes hedged with "or at least seeing what's out there."

These conversations have become noticeably more frequent in recent years, and that's no coincidence. Geopolitics, economic turbulence, sanctions, entire markets being reshaped — all of this hits corporations directly. Many have slipped into stagnation: no growth, no hiring, shrinking budgets, shuttered business lines. Someone who just two or three years ago saw a clear trajectory ahead now finds that the entire structure around them has stopped moving. And starts looking outside.

This article, the first in the "Different Rules" series, is about that moment when the thought of leaving first appears. What's really behind it, when it deserves serious attention, and what you're actually putting at stake if you decide to move.

What's behind it

When a VP or C-level executive starts seriously considering a transition, there's usually one of several reasons driving it. Sometimes just one, sometimes two or three stacked on top of each other.

The ceiling. You've reached a level where the next step is either impossible, five to seven years away, or dependent on political dynamics you can't influence. Growth has stalled, and the corporate ladder no longer leads where you need to go.

Politics. A new CEO, a reorganization, shifting priorities, coalitions you weren't invited into. You didn't lose. You simply discovered that the rules changed, and your position in the new configuration is weaker than it was.

Money. In a corporation, compensation is tied to grades and benchmarks. There's a cap, and it's visible. Private business offers a different economy: less predictability, but significantly more upside for those who deliver results.

Impact. The desire to do things rather than align on them. To make decisions rather than prepare presentations for those who do. To see the results of your work directly, not filtered through three layers of reporting.

And finally, the context I already mentioned: the corporation you work at has simply stopped being an interesting place. It's not failing, but it's not growing either. No new projects. Frozen budgets. A pervasive atmosphere of waiting. You don't want to leave something specific, but staying has become pointless.

Any of these reasons can be legitimate. The question is whether your desire to leave is driven by moving toward something or running away from something.

Those who go into private business seeking a different scale, a different speed, a different kind of accountability tend to manage the transition well. Those who are running from a bad boss, a rough year, or corporate politics usually find that their problems traveled with them. Changing the company name on your business card doesn't fix what's broken if the issue is internal.

The test most people skip

When someone comes to me with the idea of making a move, I ask a few questions. Not to talk them out of it, but so they can hear what they actually answer.

If your current employer offered you a role one level up tomorrow, with the same authority you're seeking elsewhere, would you stay? If yes, the problem isn't with the corporate system as such. It's with this particular place, and it might be easier to solve within the market you already know.

The second question is harder. Have you ever worked in an environment with no formal procedures, no budget cycle, and no HR to turn to? Where you're face to face with the owner, and your entire standing depends on what you delivered last quarter? If not, you need to understand that you're moving into an environment you've never experienced. Not worse, not better — fundamentally different.

And the third: are you prepared for the fact that during the first six to nine months, your years of experience will work against you just as often as it works for you? Skills honed in a corporate setting can actually get in the way in private business, and the adjustment takes time during which you feel incompetent. For someone used to being the expert in the room, that's a difficult experience.

What you're putting at stake

A corporation builds an infrastructure around its executives that they gradually stop noticing. Stable income, career predictability, social status, health insurance, pension plan, a professional network that operates within the industry. It all seems like a given while you're inside. When you leave, you discover that none of it was a bonus on top of your career — it was part of your everyday life, and without it, life looks very different.

If the transition involves relocation, the stakes multiply, and family enters the picture. Your spouse loses their career context. Children change schools, languages, friends. The social circle you built over years stays in the old city. I've seen executives who handled the professional side of the transition brilliantly and failed precisely here: six months in, they were successful at work and miserable at home, and that's not a state anyone can sustain for long.

The legal side also looks abstract at the idea stage but quickly becomes very concrete arithmetic. A non-compete tied to your current contract can shut you out of the most interesting opportunities on the market. A bonus that's four months away might be worth waiting for. Unvested equity you forfeit upon leaving can sometimes amount to a full year's income. All of this needs to be calculated before you start talking to the market, not after.

Timing matters more than motivation

Even if your motivation is right and your readiness is real, the moment of transition matters. Leaving in the middle of a conflict with your management means leaving from a position of weakness, and the market reads that. Leaving without closing a key project means leaving unfinished business behind, which will affect your references. Leaving three months before a bonus means losing money you've already earned.

The best transitions I've observed were made from a position of strength: someone in good standing, with results, with clean relationships inside the company. They leave not because they're being pushed out, but because they found something worth leaving for. The owner hiring an executive can tell the difference between someone who is choosing and someone who has nowhere else to go.

When the idea deserves action

If after everything you've just read you're still thinking about making the move, try answering three questions: what do I want from my next role? what am I willing to give up for it? and what outcome in two to three years would mean the transition was a success?

If you have answers, the idea deserves to become a plan. If instead of specifics you hear yourself saying "I want something new" or "I'm tired of corporate," it's worth digging deeper before you move. You might not need a transition at all — just a pause, or a different role within the corporate world.

In the next article in this series, we'll talk about how the opportunity market works in private business: why these roles never show up on LinkedIn, how to work with a recruiter, and how to evaluate a company that has no annual report and no Glassdoor page.