In honor of the advanced Summer Business Analyst deadline of McKinsey, Bain and Boston Consulting Group (“MBB,” for those who have yet to be swept by the Trans-Northwestern Consulting Pipeline), today I will reopen the wounds of my on-and-off relationship with consulting.

For those of us who spent our entire adolescence trying to get into a good college, the reality of “what comes next” is incredibly terrifying. So, we do what we know best: chase the next shiny thing. We seek out the corporate equivalent of an Ivy League acceptance.

When my young, impressionable mind first entered the Northwestern Student Org Fair in fall 2023, I was immediately drawn to the community and exclusivity of business fraternities. I wanted to be part of something hard to get into, so I rushed. 

After undergoing pledge education and endless coffee chats, I realized I would never survive the buy or sell side of investment banking. But maybe — just maybe — my budding writer self could try consulting.

There are only so many coveted spots at the MBBs of the world. Before even submitting an application, there are a billion hoops to jump through just to make sure your resume is seen. You have likely suffered countless informal interviews disguised as information sessions, resume workshops, case competitions and coffee chats (Though if you are recruiting for McKinsey, you should know these are not strictly necessary. If you did not know that, I highly suggest you go talk to your recruiter).

But the real issue is not the hoops — it is the timeline. Firms are pushing applications earlier every year. This year, McKinsey moved its 2027 Summer Business Analyst deadline from July to March. In investment banking, undergraduate students start networking in their first winter to sign an offer in their sophomore winter for a junior summer role. How can you map out your career at the ripe age of 19 when you have not actually experienced it?

This timeline reveals a frustrating paradox: you need experience to get experience. Long gone are the days when companies hired on promise alone. Today, applicants with the gold stamp of approval already boast previous work experience. This system actively disadvantages those without built-in networks or the privilege to take unpaid, early-career leaps, valuing a polished resume over genuine extracurricular exploration.

What we gloss over in this early-career panic is the third, unspoken category: everything else. Swept up by corporate timelines, we forget an entire world of careers exists in entertainment, medicine, journalism and technology. Consulting and finance may promise stability and a badge that says “you are employable,” but their rigid recruitment processes completely eliminate the period of soul-searching that every 20-year-old needs.

Maybe we romanticize the corporate “dream job” too much. Is it simply another ploy of the capitalist machine to drag us back into cubicles, or is it genuine passion and ambition? 

I often find myself jealous of the kids who know they want to go to medical school, become actors or drop out to fund startups. They seem so determined. The truth is, while some are completely decided on their career, the rest are just like me: trying to figure it out.

Leaning on friends and family has helped me. A friend recently pointed out that when I write, I am in my element. When I was reading Fortune 500 proxy statements last summer, I decidedly was not. Ask the people who know you best about when you shine or look the happiest. It might sound idealistic, but try to find what puts you in your element.

So, should you invest your energy into finance or consulting? Should you pick a third, unidentifiable creative or tech-savvy category? I say close out the LinkedIn tab and think for yourself. 

If you can endure long hours for project-based teamwork, choose consulting. If you can stare at Excel for 10 hours a day, investment banking sounds like a great fit. If you are unsure, try anything. Try nothing. Careers are rarely linear, and where you start is almost never where you end up. 

Your career is a choose-your-own-adventure, and I hate making decisions. Perhaps now you understand my career agita.

Zoe Chao is a Medill junior and author of “Undecided.” She can be contacted at [email protected]. If you would like to respond publicly to this op-ed, send a Letter to the Editor to [email protected]. The views expressed in this piece do not necessarily reflect the views of all staff members of The Daily Northwestern.