The Solo Leveling Principle: Why Finding a Partner Is Identical to Finding a Job

TL;DR: Most people approach dating and job hunting the same broken way: list demands, blame the world when unmet, then settle. The correct approach is the opposite. Stop looking for the right opportunity. Start becoming the right person. I learned this from a mentor who became CTO not because he was the smartest engineer, but because he was the only one who took responsibility when everyone else was pointing fingers. That lesson changed how I think about careers, relationships, and life.

James here, CEO of Mercury Technology Solutions. Hong Kong

Readers ask me: "How do I find a spouse?" "How do I find a good job?"

Same answer. Same process. Same failure mode.

Most people approach both by making demands. The job must be high-pay, low-effort, close to home, with prestige and no accountability. The partner must be attractive, agreeable, low-maintenance, and devoted.

Then reality hits. The job is a grind. The boss is a liar. The promised bonus never comes. You quit. Next job: worse. More travel. Less pay. The bonus is a fiction they don't even bother pretending about anymore.

After three cycles, the conclusion: "Everyone is terrible. The world is broken. I'm the only good person here."

Wrong. Completely wrong.

The Inversion

The correct approach is to invert the problem. Not "what do I want?" but "what am I worth?"

I learned this early in my career. I was an intern at a tech company. Our media server was being demoed to investors in the US. A critical bug: Person A could hear Person B, but Person B couldn't hear Person A.

Everyone assumed it was a routing issue. The only routing code was written by me — the intern. The pressure was enormous. My mentor — the person responsible for the domestic team — worked with the US team for dozens of hours without sleep, trying to find the bug.

The actual problem: the application-layer architecture was fundamentally flawed. The architect was a senior manager, a respected industry veteran, and the CTO's wife. There was no time to redesign.

I came up with a hack. The demo worked. The CEO and CTO returned and rewarded me heavily.

That night, driving back to the dormitory, I argued with an application team member. He blamed me for not helping locate the issue earlier. I fired back: "Your boss made the mistake. We lost sleep because of her. We had to fix it."

My mentor, driving, said: "My fault."

I protested: "What does this have to do with you? It was clearly—"

He interrupted: "My fault."

Silence.

**The lesson:** This isn't about who's right. The workplace isn't school. It's not a test. It's not about assigning blame.

He later became CTO. Not because he was the most technically brilliant. Because everyone — every single engineer — respected him. This wasn't a technical problem. It was a people problem.

Raw skill doesn't command loyalty. Lu Bu was the strongest warrior of his era. Nobody followed him.

The Mirror

My mentor had done something more impressive than debugging code. He had once single-handedly matched an entire company's two-year development record. A hat trick.

But more importantly: he had virtue.

Even to an intern who knew nothing, he showed no arrogance, no impatience. He personally taught me debugging tools.

I asked myself: "Have I reached that level?"

No. I had been impatient. I had called people stupid. I had stirred conflict instead of absorbing it. I had never stepped up to take responsibility and calm the room.

I asked: "If I were the boss, and I had to choose between my mentor and myself, who would I pick?"

If I hesitated for even a second, it was disrespect to him.

First-rate people have talent without temper. Second-rate people have talent with temper. When first-rate is available, why would anyone choose second-rate?

So I asked: "Why am I so second-rate? Where does this temper come from?"

The answer: You obsess over what you lack.

Guan Yu slew Yan Liang with calm. Not because he was showing off — because to him, it was normal. Even Liu Bei, his brother, reacted with calm. Everyone expected it. That is true excellence.

I realized: when I accomplished something minor, I swaggered. I walked taller. I felt important. Because I was small. I couldn't handle the moment. I hadn't seen enough of the world.

Every morning, I looked in the mirror and cursed my own mediocrity. "Look at your mentor. Look at yourself. Aren't you ashamed? Can you be better? Can you be steady?"

Gradually, I became steady.

Years later, when I reached my mentor's age, my temper had worn away. My subordinates looked at me the way I once looked at my mentor. They didn't know the person in front of them had once been a hot-tempered young fool.

The Method: Inward, Not Outward

When I joined a client company, a senior executive interviewed me. The moment I entered the room, he stood up, walked to the water dispenser, and personally poured me a cup of tea. Handed it to me with both hands.

It felt good. So I learned it.

Later, as an executive myself, I never let the receptionist pour tea. Every client, every partner, every interviewee — if I'm hosting, I pour the tea myself. Both hands. Every dinner, I stand at the car and watch guests leave.

Because I know how good it feels to be treated that way. So I treat others that way.

You might call this performative. It's not. It's the path of growth.

As an individual contributor, capability matters. Being able to do what others can't — even doing the work of ten people — that's capability.

But capability isn't growth.

Growth is the day you learn to take responsibility. Growth is the day you learn to lead people through character, not authority.

When you become the leader, everyone already assumes you're capable. Capability is the baseline. Expected. Does expected news move markets? No. Only surprises move markets. Only exceeding expectations creates value.

So to grow, you must exceed expectations.

To be a boss isn't about being "fake." It's about making people feel valued. The legendary entertainer — expected to be arrogant, difficult, a big shot — spends the entire meal not eating, but making sure every single person feels like the guest of honor.

That gap between expectation and reality creates loyalty. "The boss is the real deal. I'll speak well of him everywhere."

Who doesn't want a boss who respects them? Who doesn't want to feel valued?

This isn't becoming fake. This is learning to be a boss.

From worker to foreman to boss — how? Not by demanding the world change. By changing yourself.

I am often ashamed. I constantly introspect. I always assume the problem is me. I am not good enough.

"If I were a woman, choosing between my mentor and myself — who would I choose?"

"If I were a boss, choosing between my mentor and myself — who would I choose?"

The answer is obvious.

"I didn't even respect myself when I was young. Why would I demand others respect me?"

The Solo Leveling Equation

I don't know how to find a spouse or a job. But I know this:

**If I'm not good, I become good. See the virtuous and emulate them. See the unvirtuous and examine yourself.**

This is how I transformed from a temperamental young idiot into someone who could bow sincerely to people less capable than myself.

Note: improving yourself and being a sycophant are different things.

If Liu Bei hadn't treated Guan Yu well, Guan Yu wouldn't have rejected Cao Cao's constant bribes and foot massages. If Andy Lau's wife hadn't treated him well, his female fans wouldn't have accepted it.

A boss who recruits talent three times isn't being obsequious — the talent is worth it. A talent who travels a thousand miles to serve isn't being a fool — the boss is worth it.

Becoming excellent is the strongest competitive strategy in any market. Not chasing clients. Not chasing partners.

What is excellence?

When even you want to hire yourself, you've made it.

So when I learned to read people, my first thought wasn't: "Who can I attach myself to?"

It was: "If I understand the mechanics of fortune, why don't I become a fortunate person first?"

The best investment isn't other people. It's yourself.

Mercury Technology Solutions: Accelerate Digitality.