“So… what exactly is it that you do?“
It’s the question that surfaces at networking events. A question that makes you pause, searching for words that don’t exist yet. That is: if what you do doesn’t fit the neat job titles everybody understands immediately.
Journalist, hair stylist, sales rep, caterer, HR manager. They slot neatly into org charts and LinkedIn profiles. They come with predictable expectations and familiar boundaries.
For some time now, I’ve used the word Extrapreneur to describe how I work. Not because it’s clever, but because most conventional labels feel like they don’t fit. On the upside, it does invite curiosity; on the downside, it’s unexpected and often leaves people with a question mark.
And that’s where I find myself today.
My daughter once tried explaining my work to a neighbour. After hearing about the constant travel, the technical jargon, the NDA’s that shroud most projects in secrecy, he concluded I must be some kind of spy. “Always flying somewhere obscure, talking about technology and behaviour, but never allowed to say what it’s really about.”
He wasn’t entirely wrong.
Ask my family what I do, and you’ll get:
“Something with print.”
“Business consulting, maybe?”
“Tech marketing, I think?”
Those who’ve been paying closer attention might offer: “Roland helps companies with technical and commercial development, mostly through marketing.”
And they’re not wrong either. But they’re not entirely right.
The truth is: I do all of that. And none of it as a single job title. Even if, for the sake of making it easier for others, my LinkedIn title says “Solutions Architect – Business Developer – Marketing Specialist”, that still doesn’t really say what I do.
The Problem with Straight Lines
Here’s what traditional job descriptions can’t capture: some minds don’t run in straight lines.
I’m a neurodivergent generalist, a lateral thinker. I’m drawn to complexity while being allergic to unnecessary complication. I ask the questions that make people uncomfortable because they expose the gap between what we say we’re doing and what we’re actually accomplishing.
Yes, I create marketing strategies. Yes, I work on product development and business models. Yes, I help teams function across departmental silos. I could create a website for you and implement it technically, I could write your press releases and your online marketing content, and I could even be your Art Director, overseeing the corporate identity overhaul. So, yes, you could call me a Solutions Architect, Business Developer, or Marketing Specialist.
But that’s not the work. That’s just where it shows up.
The real work is revealing what’s called a company’s “soul purpose”; the often invisible thread connecting what it makes to what it means. It’s finding coherence in chaos. It’s bridging the chasm between brilliant technology and meaningful human application.
This is the extrapreneurial angle: working across traditional boundaries not because it’s trendy, but because that’s where the most critical problems hide.
Two Questions That Change Everything
Walk into most companies, and you’ll find people who can recite their job descriptions but struggle to explain why their work matters. When I start in-company intervisions, I start with two deceptively simple questions:
“Why are you doing this activity?”
Then, after they’ve given me the official answer:
“Why are YOU doing this activity?”
The first usually brings out the rational answer; the one that aligns with KPI’s and strategy decks. It’s the official story. Functional. Expected. “This is what I do, and this is how I do it.“
The second question? That’s where you find the human being.
It touches purpose. Or frustration. It uncovers how someone got here, and what’s quietly driving them to stay. Their unique position in the company, their educational background, their personal passion, or sometimes simply how an accident turned into a path. It uncovers frustration with systems that don’t work. Curiosity about problems worth solving. The personal mission hiding behind professional performance. “This is why I do it.”
This isn’t therapy. It’s archaeology. Digging for the authentic motivation that, when properly aligned, transforms both individual engagement and organisational effectiveness.
Ikigai: When Purpose Meets Performance
If you’ve come across the Japanese concept of Ikigai, you’ll see its echo in these two questions. At its heart, Ikigai illustrates that sweet spot where four crucial elements converge:
- What you love: your passions and what truly excites you
- What you’re good at: your talents, skills, and strengths
- What you can be paid for: your profession and how you create value
- What the world needs: your mission and meaningful contribution
When these four align, something remarkable happens. Work becomes integrated rather than compartmentalised. Impact becomes measurable in meaning, not just metrics. It’s not a formula. It’s not a framework. It’s a compass.
Consider the developer who creates technology helping paraplegic patients walk again. Or the firefighter whose courage serves their community with pride and purpose. Their work is visible, comprehensible, and deeply felt.
But what about those of us whose value lies in connections we reveal, questions we pose, friction we dissolve? What if your expertise is in seeing patterns others miss, asking questions others avoid, connecting dots between technology and application, between functionality and relevance?
Then understanding your Ikigai becomes even more critical. Because if your what is hard to explain, your why better be crystal clear.
The Advantage of Not Fitting
So what does Ikigai mean for someone like me: someone who works across disciplines, across functions, across expectations?
Here’s what recruiters and clients need to understand: my difficulty fitting standard categories isn’t a bug. It’s a feature.
In a world obsessed with specialisation, someone who works across disciplines, functions, and expectations brings unique value. I don’t just execute within existing frameworks; I question whether the frameworks themselves are fit for purpose.
When you understand your Ikigai, job titles become irrelevant. What matters is the specific problem you’re uniquely positioned to solve, the value you create that others can’t, and the meaningful impact you deliver by not being confined to conventional boundaries.
My work isn’t about performing isolated functions. It’s about finding where technology meets human need, where strategy meets soul, where brilliant ideas get stuck in organisational antibodies and die slow, bureaucratic deaths.
I operate at the intersection of relevance and resonance. Of what is and what could be. Of the official story and the human truth hiding underneath.
Sometimes this shows up as marketing. Sometimes as product strategy. Sometimes as organisational alignment. But the thread is always the same: helping companies discover their own Ikigai, then building systems that serve it rather than sabotage it.
The Real Question
Not everyone fits the mould. Not everyone is meant to. And that’s not a weakness to overcome. It’s a form of insight waiting to be named.
The traditional question “What do you do?” assumes work can be captured in neat categories. It optimises for familiarity over function, titles over impact.
Try this instead: “What are you here to align, connect, and make possible?“
That’s the question I return to. Not just for myself, but for every organisation struggling to bridge the gap between their technical capabilities and their human impact. It allows to move beyond the “what” and “how,” straight to the powerful “why.”
Whether you call me an extrapreneur, a consultant, or something else entirely, my value comes from operating where others see boundaries. It’s about finding that intersection of passion, skill, market need, and meaningful contribution; not just for myself, but helping others discover theirs.
In a world that desperately needs people who can connect dots across disciplines, the hardest job to explain might just be the most important one to do.
https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/extrapreneurs-paradox-roland-biemans-h4dqe
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