In a Broken Job Market, Da Vinci’s Oldest Trick Still Works

He skipped the buzzwords and listed what he could actually do. Maybe we should too.

I once interviewed a candidate for a global program manager role who couldn’t answer a simple question:

“What’s something you’re good at, that most people aren’t?”

She froze. Not from modesty—but from the sheer weirdness of being asked to say out loud what she does well.

She had a resume full of leadership roles. She had a master’s degree. She had recommendations that used words like rockstar. But when it came time to speak plainly about her strengths?

Crickets.

And it turns out, she’s not alone.

The resume is polished. The clarity is missing.

Each year, colleges mint nearly 2M bachelor’s degrees in the U.S.
That’s about $35,000 in average student loan debt per person.

And yet—most grads can’t confidently explain what they bring to a team.

Employers notice.

A 2024 survey by Intelligent.com found that 51% of hiring managers are frustrated with Gen Z’s lack of workplace readiness. But dig deeper, and it's not just etiquette or dress code—it’s a lack of narrative clarity. People can’t describe their strengths in real-world terms.

Think about it:

• You’ve got finance grads who can’t pitch themselves to startups.

• Designers who can’t talk through their creative process.

• Career pivoters who list every job title—but can’t say what they’re actually great at.

It’s not a skills gap.
It’s a self-translation gap.

Look, the market right now is wild. Layoffs, hiring freezes, ghost jobs—there’s a lot going on that’s completely out of your control. If you're feeling stuck or overlooked, you're not imagining it. This isn’t just about effort or talent—it’s also about timing, luck, and systems that weren’t built with clarity in mind.

That said, one thing you can control is how clearly you talk about your strengths. And in a noisy, unpredictable job market, clarity becomes your leverage.

When Leonardo da Vinci applied for a job…

In 1482, da Vinci wanted a gig designing military gear for the Duke of Milan.
He didn’t send a portfolio of paintings.

He sent a bullet-point list:

• I can design lightweight bridges.

• I can build siege weapons.

• I know how to reroute rivers.

11 lines. All outcomes. All strengths. (Click here for the full copy).

While da Vinci focused mostly on his wartime engineering skills, he still hinted at the breadth of his abilities—architecture, sculpture, painting—without sounding arrogant. What’s more impressive: he didn’t dwell on past accomplishments. He framed every bullet around what he could do for the Duke, not what he had already done. It wasn’t about ego—it was about utility.

Da Vinci understood the original job-to-be-done. He skipped the fluff. No poetic waxing about his “passion for problem-solving” or “creative mindset.” Just: here’s what I can do. Here’s how it helps you.

Compare that to most LinkedIn bios today:

“Results-oriented strategic thinker with a passion for innovation.”

What does that even mean?

Personal branding ≠ influencer vibes

There’s been a lot of noise about “personal branding” in the last few years.
Everyone's busy creating content, tweaking bios, designing carousels, posting humblebrags on LinkedIn.

I’ve done it too.

I’ve spent hours writing clever one-liners, revising my headline, editing the same post four times. All while still dodging the harder internal question:

What am I actually great at?

It’s ironic.
While the branding tools have exploded, the ability to describe real strengths has gone backward.

You don’t need Canva.
You need vocabulary.

You need to stop saying “team player,” and start saying:

“I’m the one who notices when the team’s running on fumes and figures out what’s slowing us down—then quietly gets us back on track.”

That’s a strength.

And strength, articulated clearly, moves markets.

Because here’s the thing:
The job market doesn’t reward effort. It rewards clarity.

So what’s the fix?

You don’t need another resume template. You need a reflection loop.

Here’s where to start:

1. Look at what energizes you, not just what you're good at.
You can be great at spreadsheets and still hate every second. Strength isn’t just skill—it’s energy.

2. Ask people what they rely on you for.
Not your title—your real value. What’s the thing people always ask you to do?

3. Turn the buzzword into a behavior.
Don’t say “leadership.” Say:

“I’m the one who makes tough decisions when no one else wants to.”

I did this exercise. Here’s what I found:

When I asked students, peers, and colleagues what they rely on me for, a pattern emerged:

• I get on someone’s level without making them feel small.
  I’m not sure if it’s trust, tone, or timing—but I regularly get honest answers where others get silence.

• I make abstract ideas practical.
  I can take something theoretical—whether it’s a framework, concept, or messy vision—and translate it into a step-by-step action.

• I ask great questions.
  The kind that lead people to their own breakthroughs. Not to prove I’m smart—but to help them realize they are.

These weren’t things I had ever written on a resume.

They weren’t “program management” or “content strategy.”
They were specific, behavioral, and actually helpful.

And suddenly, I could see it: my strengths live in translation, trust-building, and practical clarity.

That’s way more useful than “creative problem-solver.”

The bottom line

We spend billions teaching people to memorize facts, write essays, and code in Python.

But until you can answer the question “What do you do better than most people?” without blinking—you’re not actually ready for the market.

It doesn’t mean you’re not talented.
It means you haven’t named the thing yet.

And no one’s going to name it for you.

So pause the content calendar. Forget the resume template for a minute.

Start by doing what da Vinci did in 1482:
Write five bullet points describing what you’re great at—and who it helps.

That’s the clarity the job market actually pays for.