Fractional Work: A Midlife Crisis or a Career Hack or the Only Way to Stay Sane?
By Michail Katkoff, who definitely could use a breather but instead keeps jumping into the wild ride of fractional work, the go-to move for leaders who want impact without the full-time grind.
I never planned to become a fractional executive. It just… happened.
After years of running product teams, building games, leading studios, and obsessing over free-to-play strategy, I found myself in a weird spot: too experienced for most jobs, yet too restless to commit to just one. I didn’t want to spend the next decade climbing an org chart or sitting in a Monday sync, wondering how I became part of the problem I used to critique on the Deconstructor of Fun podcast.
So I started doing the thing founders quietly ask for but don’t know how to describe.
They’d say, “Can you help us scale our product org?” or “We need to figure out product-market fit before launch, can you jump in for a couple of months?” Or the most honest one: “Our team is great, but very junior. We don’t want to hire a CPO yet, but we also can’t afford to keep guessing.”
That’s how I slipped into fractional work. Not as a consultant. Not as an advisor. As someone who plugs into a team, takes on real KPIs, and stays just long enough to make myself obsolete.
And to be honest, I think I’ve come to love it. Most of the time...
Not because it’s easy, it’s definitely not. It’s one of the most chaotic, unstable, and mentally taxing ways to work. But when it works, it works better than any full-time exec role I’ve ever had.
All About The Results, Not The Politics
On the surface, the benefits are obvious. In addition to game companies, my bread and butter, I get to work with app companies that are adapting the learnings we collected in free-to-play games.
I also get to jump into wildly different businesses: Roblox Studios, PC publishers, as well as tools, tech, and platforms, all running as the silent engines of the gaming industry. Each one is a new world. I stay just long enough to build context, fix something, coach someone, and move on to help the next one.
But the real appeal is more existential than that.
I get to stay close to the work. No politics. No interpersonal workplace drama. Just clear goals, honest conversations, and the ability to say: “Here’s what we’re doing. Here’s why it’s broken. And here’s how we fix it.”
As a fractional leader, you’re not chasing influence. You’re chasing impact. You don’t get legacy. You get velocity. And you know what? That’s enough.
A Lifestyle Not For The Faint-Hearted
There are weeks I’m flying high, engaged in strategy calls in the morning, shipping live ops features by night, helping a young PM negotiate a better title while advising a CEO on their CPO hire. And then there are weeks I wake up to two clients pausing, a proposal ghosted, and a Slack full of product decisions made without me.
The peaks are thrilling. The valleys are echoing.
And the hardest part? There’s no predictability. One month, you’re working 60 hours across three companies. Next, you’re checking LinkedIn like it’s Tinder, wondering if it’s time to find a “real” job again.
People romanticize the freedom of consulting work. “Choose your clients,” “design your day,” “work from Greece.” Sure, that’s real. But so is waking up at 4:30 a.m. for a West Coast sync after a restless night because you said yes to too many clients that all ended up onboarding at the same time. So is context switching between five Slack workspaces with entirely different cultures, cadences, and conflicts.
Fractional work gives you freedom. It also takes away stability, structure, and the illusion that you’re indispensable. But maybe that’s the point.
The Job Doesn’t Get Done Without You
Here’s what I’ve learned after doing this for a couple of years now: the best fractional work is not a backup plan. It’s not a temp job for “in between things.” It’s a craft.
It requires ruthless prioritization. It demands emotional intelligence. And most of all, it rewards honesty. You’re not there to impress anyone. You’re there to fix something and leave it better than you found it.
Sometimes being fractional feels like you’re like the cleaner in a heist movie. Not quite part of the gang. But the job doesn’t get done without you.
And funny enough, the relationships you build as a fractional leader are often deeper than those from full-time roles. Maybe it’s because people sense you’re not playing the long game. You’re not gunning for a promotion. You’re not covering your ass. So they tell you the truth. They trust you. They ask for advice they’d never ask their boss.
More than once, a PM whom I worked with in a fractional has reached out months later just to say, “I stayed. I’m happy. Thanks for the talk.” I rarely got that when I was full-time managing teams and studios. Maybe because no one felt they could really talk to me then. Maybe it’s because the ups and downs in my career have forced me to grow as a person. Maybe both. Either way, getting these calls from the people I’ve helped is a highlight of my month every time.
Bring on Fractional Leader Carefully
If you’re thinking about hiring a fractional exec, here’s what I’ll say: treat it like any other leadership hire. Do the interviews. Align with the goals. Be clear about how long you want the engagement to last, and what happens if it works. Some people are there to help you hire their replacement. Others might fall in love with the team and want to stick around.
And if you’re a senior operator wondering whether to go fractional, don’t be seduced by the lifestyle until you’ve proven yourself in full-time roles. This path rewards execution, not ambition. If you haven’t built something end-to-end and navigated the political and emotional minefield of company-building, you probably don’t have the scar tissue that makes fractional work valuable.
You’re not getting hired for your potential. You’re getting hired because someone needs a grown-up in the room.
Philosophical Musing
Fractional work isn’t for everyone. But for me, it’s been a way to stay curious, stay relevant, and stay honest about the kind of work I want to do.
I’ve learned to treat it not as a midlife crisis but as a mid-career recalibration.
I don’t know where this road leads. Maybe one of these roles will turn into something permanent. Maybe I’ll launch my own thing again. Or maybe I’ll keep floating between projects, collecting stories, and helping companies steer through their messiest moments.
What I do know is this: full-time roles give you a ladder. Fractional work gives you a compass. And for now, that’s what I need.
PS: If you’re exploring fractional work, on either side of the table, I’d love to hear from you. Let’s compare notes, share lessons, and figure out how to build companies (and careers) that don’t just look good on LinkedIn, but actually feel right.
