What I'm hearing in this article is "some people lock in their view of what the best way to improve the world is while they're still in middle school and don't update after that." I agree that's a problem! Encouraging people to consider a variety of careers that could help people and think about what evidence might change their mind definitely seems helpful.

Something this post doesn't acknowledge, but I think is really important, is that doing good isn't the only goal in most people's career choice! Most people want a career that they enjoy and are good at, that pays well and is respected by their family and friends. There can be lots of other more individual factors too.

When I mention my career in EA circles, people often assume that I think my career is the best way to improve the world, without taking my own happiness or any other factors into account. They'll ask questions like, "How did you decide that policy work was the best way for you to do good?" It's often less awkward to just talk about how my job allows me to do good than to talk about how much fun I have working with clever people to make important decisions, how I've been interested in policy since I was a kid, how much I value a stable salary with a generous pension, or the great pay during parental leave.

I wonder if that's sometimes happening in these circles. Maybe your friend who wanted to be a scientist really was 100% interested in improving the world and was frustrated you couldn't see his point of view, but maybe he was just really excited about being a scientist for personal reasons and felt like you were implying he's a bad person for not being willing to give up his life's dream after attending a couple of seminars. I wouldn't be too quick to assume which situation is going on here, and I'd really encourage you when having these conversations to emphasize that people have more than one goal and that's fine.

I am someone who held on to prior career plans after encountering EA for what, in retrospect, feels like too long in light of my goals at the time. So I recognize the phenomenon you're describing in the post, but at the same time I was not interested in re-examining my career when I first encountered EA and I am quite confident that if anyone had tried to directly persuade me that my plans were misguided, it would have turned me off from the movement in much the same way as your friend who left the Precipice reading group. 

For engaging with people who are interested in EA ideas but otherwise similarly stuck on their career plan, I suggest the following:

• Ask them what role they see their career playing in their life. What are they trying to accomplish with their career? If the answer is anything besides "to have the most impact I can," that probably explains most of the disconnect between what you and they see as ideal career plans. [ETA: Khorton expanded on this idea much more eloquently in another comment.]
• Ask what they love most about their current work, and what they find limiting or frustrating about it.
• Ask what else they thought about doing with their lives before settling on their career plan, and what was attractive about those other options. Centering the conversation on paths they already thought about first can help reveal other considerations that their current career is trading off against.
• At this point, you could ask if they could ever imagine switching to something else in the future. If they say no, they're not ready to have a conversation about it, so just drop it. If they say yes or maybe, they will probably offer some unprompted thoughts on what they might switch to, which can then provide an opening for you to offer ideas that are aligned with the goals they shared with you at the beginning but could be higher-impact than their current option set.

Thinking about other career possibilities is a necessary first step, but for someone anchored on their current career it will likely take some time for them to act on those thoughts. To accelerate the process, you could prompt them (maybe in a subsequent conversation) to think about what circumstances would cause them to actually make a switch. Again, it's crucial to do this in a way that isn't pushy or manipulative -- you need to have achieved some buy-in from them to get to this point rather than jumping straight to it.

Hope that helps!

I'm not sure that "priming newcomers to be suspicious of their pre-career EA plans" is the best framing. It sounds a bit negative and may come off as manipulative, even though that's of course not what you intend.

Of course, movement building is about promoting ideas/memes. But this is way too much for my taste:

• First, it sounds like a suboptimal way to attract great people—especially those who think independently. I encourage to think you about a marginal person who would get into EA that way.
• Second, it is borderline unprofessional for a community builder/career coach to act semi-manipulatively under a hidden agenda.
• Third, forcing "deconversion" onto people is just beyond reasonable. Maybe I am reading too much into the "problematic example," but giving up your childhood dreams isn't something people should be expected to do after attending a ~random reading group.

Sometimes it might be good to point out motivated reasoning, I can imagine calling someone I know very well on that. Otherwise, I think that it's much better to hold space for their own reflection/weighting of considerations/processing and maybe occasionally help them with open-ended questions (which might kinda point to weaker parts of their reasoning). But even in the latter case of more "motivational interviewing," I personally frame it to myself as "I don't want to play EA with people who don't want to play EA with me on their own."

Is this the relevant passage from Strangers Drowning? If so, I don't find this that compelling for considering totally revamping one's career plans, since it's not clear why her radical new career plan of becoming a psychiatrist is better. As far as I know, Julia's current job at the Centre for Effective altruism is much closer to social work than it is to psychiatry. I think it would be worthwhile to look into other possible readings (or to write one, as Nikola is planning!). I've only skimmed the Julia Wise chapter, so it's possible that I missed something.

It was bad enough to worry about these questions in retrospect, but they became far more pressing when Julia had to think about a career. She wanted to be a social worker—she had wanted to for years—but she could earn far more money doing something else. Was it okay for her to be a social worker anyway? How much was she entitled to consider her own happiness? She could justify not going for the absolute maximum she could earn on the grounds that she would be so crushingly miserable in finance or law that she would have a breakdown within a few years, and then she’d be out the cost of law school or business school or whatever it took to get into the field in the first place. She knew that pushing herself past what she could endure wasn’t going to help anyone. A career had to be sustainable over the long haul. But obviously there were lots of jobs that paid less than finance but more than social work. How could she justify going into a field that paid so little? She struggled with this question for a long time, and though she never did come up with a satisfactory answer, she enrolled in social-work school anyway.

All of this was much less of a problem for Jeff. If he had married someone other than Julia, he thought, he probably would not be spending much more than he was now, he would just be saving the extra rather than giving it away. He wanted to have a pot of money in reserve so he would have more options in the future, and so that, if anything bad happened to his family, he would be able to help. If he hadn’t married Julia, he would have spent a bit more on nicer musical instruments—he especially coveted a new fiddle—and he would have felt freer to quit his job and do something else that paid less. Maybe he would have become a full-time musician or a folk-dance caller. But other than that, his life would be basically the same. He figured he would enjoy any number of different jobs, so he felt free to pick the highest-paid one. He liked working as a programmer, and he imagined that if he had no charitable duties he would probably be doing something pretty similar. It wasn’t hard to make him happy.

While Julia was working on her social-work degree, it occurred to her that she might have enjoyed being a psychiatrist, and psychiatrists earned much more than social workers. That was what she should have done with her life, she realized. But the thought of investing vast sums of money and many years of her life on premed courses and then medical school—years in which, she had reason to believe, she would be utterly miserable and wouldn’t be able to donate anything at all—was too awful to contemplate. Later still, it occurred to her that she could earn more money within social work by becoming one of the despised subspecies that adjudicated claims for insurance companies—those who spent their time denying sick people coverage. The work would be awful, but it would enable her to give a lot more without requiring any additional training, so did she have the right to turn away from it?

The trouble was, she loved her job. Her first position was as a counselor in a prison. Much of the time she couldn’t do very much for the people she talked with—they were in prison, after all—but many of them were so miserable there, and so desperate for kindness, that she saw that just listening to them and being supportive meant quite a bit. And once in a while she felt that something she had said had really helped. One woman in the prison was the daughter of an alcoholic father who had died from the effects of drinking; the father had always told his daughter that her bad behavior had driven him to drink, and the daughter felt dreadful guilt about this, believing that she had effectively killed him. Julia said, What if your father had told his AA group that he drank because of you, that it was all your fault? The daughter at once saw how wrong that would sound to other people, and felt her guilt ease. Moments like that made Julia happy, but she was careful not to let herself get carried away. She was there to think about what her clients needed, not what made her feel good. She wrote in her blog:

This is an ad for a food bank that appears on buses all over Boston. Here we have a pretty young white woman hugging an older white woman. I guess the young woman is supposed to represent the food bank, since she looks happy, whereas the faceless older woman is presumably hungry and therefore in need of comfort. Oh, wait. Except she doesn’t need a hug. She needs groceries. I have a rescue fantasy—what social worker doesn’t? Somewhere inside, we love to believe that we could just hug our clients and make everything better. If we took them home and gave them a good meal and enough sympathy, we believe we could fix everything and earn their undying gratitude. But that is an inside thought. You do not tell your clients about that thought. The point is to help, not to feel helpful. . . . If I needed groceries, would I really want to go someplace where I might get hugged by some misty-eyed young lady with a savior complex? No way.

Thanks for this post! I agree this is a problem, and the solution of talking about yours or others' career changes or motivated reasoning seems promising.