When You’re Between Roles, You Have to Rethink Your Network

HR Unscripted with Robert Jane, Global Chief People Officer 

Connection vs Opportunity are Not the Same Thing 

When I left WPP in April, I didn’t expect to spend so much time thinking about the word “network.” After sixteen years in HR across the UK, North America, Europe, the Middle East and Asia, I thought I understood connection. My career had been built on relationships. I’d led teams, partnered with senior leaders, and stayed close to people long after we’d moved on. My LinkedIn was full of names. On paper, I looked well connected.

But when the pace slowed, I saw things differently. A network serves two purposes: connection and opportunity. One keeps you in touch with the world you know. The other helps you reach the world you want to enter next. They sound similar, but they’re not. And for the first time, I had to ask myself which of those my own network was built for.

I was a little naïve about what would happen next. You write the LinkedIn post announcing your news, the kind that marks a big shift. Comments arrive quickly, kind and supportive. Your inbox fills up. For a few days, it feels like the world is watching. You imagine the phone will start to ring. But it doesn’t. Not in a week. Not in a month. It stays silent.

That silence makes you look differently at how work really happens. There are only two paths to finding it. One is to create it by identifying someone who needs your skills but doesn’t yet know who you are. The other is to apply for open roles. The problem with the second path, especially in today’s market for senior HR jobs in London, is the odds. Hundreds, sometimes thousands, of applicants. Automated systems filter out most CVs before an interview is even possible. Relying only on job boards isn’t a plan. You have to improve your odds by building the right kind of network.

When your Network Reflects Where you’ve Been and Not Where you’re Going  

Over the following months, I spoke to many people; former colleagues, mentors, peers, and friends who’d navigated similar transitions. Everyone was generous. Many shared names of recruiters or executive search firms worth contacting. Often, the same ones came up. It made sense. The senior HR market is small, and those firms sit at its centre. Still, something became clear: my network was full of people who understood my work, but very few who might need it.

That changed how I thought about networking. My network reflected the world I’d come from, not the one I wanted to move into. It was strong on connection but weak on opportunity.

This is common in HR. We build trusted relationships and deep internal networks, but they sit within the same circles. They keep us close to people who think like us and already know what we do. It feels comfortable, but it limits reach. The people who decide when HR leadership is needed often sit outside that circle; founders, CEOs, investors, COOs. They value people, but they talk about it differently. When they say culture, they mean consistency. When they say leadership, they mean delivery. Unless your network reaches those people, you stay visible only within HR.

Recruiters help close that gap. The best ones know the market and can make introductions when the timing is right. But even they can only work with the briefs they have. They don’t create demand, they respond to it. If you rely only on advertised roles, you’ll always be one of many.

Shifting from Visibility to Relevance 

A network made up only of people who understand your work won’t get you hired. You also need people who might need what you offer. That’s the two halves of a network that works. One group knows your quality and might just need a reminder. The other doesn’t yet know you, but they’re facing the kind of challenges you can solve. You need both.

Once I saw that, my focus changed. I stopped chasing visibility and started thinking about relevance. I looked for people who understood what HR leadership delivers in practice: capability, performance, stability, and growth. Some I already knew and reconnected with. Others were new, found through mutual contacts, shared events, or simple curiosity.

The approach was simple: reach out with interest, not agenda. Comment on work that speaks to you. Follow up on genuine conversations. Suggest a chat, not a pitch. It’s not about being everywhere online. It’s about being remembered in the right places, by the right people. Small, consistent actions – a message, a short call – make a lasting difference.

Technology can help in small ways. It can show where your network is active, who engages with your work, or which relationships have gone quiet. It can clean up your online presence and help you stay visible. What it can’t do is build trust. That still depends on curiosity, generosity, and time. Real networks grow from interest in other people’s work, not from requests for help.

The key is balance. You need both sides of a network working for you: those who already know your quality, and those who are about to discover it. One group keeps you credible. The other keeps you relevant. Without both, the odds will always be against you.

The Best Networks are Built Long Before You Need Them 

And this balance can’t be built in a hurry. It has to exist before you need it. Networks that wake up only when you’re between roles fade too quickly to matter. A brief note to an old colleague, a small gesture of help, a short catch-up message; these things keep relationships alive and authentic.

As I now prepare to step into my next role, that’s been the major lesson. The strength of a network lies in its shape, not its size. A thousand names mean little if they all live in the same world. When you’re in ‘looking for work’ mode, the network that matters is made up of those who remember your capability and those who might one day call on it.

Connection keeps you part of the world you know. Opportunity lives in the one just outside it. The best networks quietly bridge both.

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