I don’t like being told what to do. Ask my Mom.
Twice in my career I’ve been told my position is no longer necessary, and thank you and don’t let the door hit you on the way out.
Well, they didn’t use those exact words. But they might as well have.
I work in the content field and started out in publications and print media. Both of my layoffs were tied to economic recession and trouble adapting to the print-to-digital transformation.
After the first layoff, I went to grad school and got a degree in journalism, thinking it would be more stable.
Wrong.
After the second layoff, I switched to something more future-proof. Namely, digital content operations and, eventually, the tech sector. I was convinced I’d never have to worry about job security again.
Wrong.
I can pinpoint the moment I realized it. It was three years ago, during a meeting when a member of my team demoed the cool logos she’d made experimenting with DALL-E.
I used to design logos and ads back in the day. There’s a whole art to choosing stylistic elements and placement. And the robot had come up with workable starting points — if not complete designs — in mere minutes.
(Tinfoil hat alert: Literally a minute after I typed that paragraph, I got an email from OpenAI touting ChatGPT Images.)
My mind was blown when I saw those logos. But not with, “Oh, how cool!!” It was, “Seriously?? Again??”
To put an especially fine point on it, that employee lost their job a month later in a large reduction in force. AI wasn’t the reason. But the signs of looming disruption were clear.
Cue the music
Last week, 16,000 more of my colleagues were laid off. Three months ago, 14,000 got the pink slip. I won’t delve into or debate the reasons why. Business decisions are business decisions and above my paygrade.
My heart goes out to these folks and the thousands of others in the same situation. They’ve been thrown into a horrible market in which even looking for a job requires a whole new set of skills, not to mention keeping up with an AI-tech bar that rises every couple weeks. The old standbys also haven’t gone away: age bias (young and old), geographic lock-ins, salary ranges that don’t cover the cost of living.
Certainly, a fair number have bounced back and secured new roles. Others have had the green banner on their LinkedIn profile awhile, and I fear the odds are against them. Mind you, I don’t believe AI is replacing people wholesale. It’s not good enough (yet). But the optics are bad when you see how many green banners are in fields deemed highly automatable. Like, say, knowledge work. Competition is fierce, it’s super-difficult to switch fields, and there’s a growing drumbeat to give it up and join the trades if you enjoy eating and having a roof over your head.
I saw something similar after my second layoff. At the time, newspapers were closing right and left, and “journalist” was high on the list of endangered careers. Some transitioned into parallel fields such as communications. Some retired or chose entirely new paths. Many, though, played a torturous game of musical chairs, darting after the increasingly rare mainstream-media positions that cropped up.
I was among them. I wasn’t ready to give up on a career I enjoyed, and as a tradeoff, I had to spend a couple years in survival mode, freelancing and leaning on the kindness of family. It was like winning the lottery when I got one of those precious dwindling positions. Then the layoff rumors started again, and I saw the writing on the wall. The model had changed for good, and I could keep playing the game or change with the times.
Are there still mainstream journalists? Yes, but they had to reinvent themselves, too, and now need to be omni-channel wizards, social media geniuses, and thought leaders all at the same time. It’s a miracle they have time to do actual reporting.
The reluctant reinventor
The hardest part of a not-entirely-welcome reinvention is making the decision to do it. If resources allow, it’s tempting to stay in your comfort zone and try waiting it out. There’s a fine line, though, between tenacity and stubbornness, and knowing when to cut your losses is as valuable a skill as persistence.
There’s no shortage of career advice out there, much of it for free, to help you explore options and boost your confidence about making a change. Heck, ask the closest chatbot to walk you through a self-assessment. But do keep a close eye out for scams, as the Cheaty McCheatersons are taking advantage of this moment.
Once you’ve got an idea, find out everything you can about it. AI’s deep-thinking mode can help. Talk to people who’ve made the same change. Identify the skills you need and how to get them. (Hint: You probably don’t need to go back to school.) Study up on business basics if you decide to go the entrepreneur route. I don’t care what the YouTuber said. You can’t just spin up an Etsy shop and start making bracelets in your spare room. You need a clear plan for income streams, projected costs, marketing channels, audience strategies, and more.
Even if your role seems secure, it’s prudent to start thinking about what might be next if it’s suddenly not. And if — OK, when — you get the heebie-jeebies about leaping into the unknown, remind yourself there’s no rule that says you have to get it right the first time. It’s perfectly fine to go into survival mode, too. Consider it a learning opportunity and keep track of transferable skills like problem-solving and creative thinking. In my case, survival mode taught me the business skills that fuel much of my current operations role.
I was incredibly lucky both times I was laid off. I had the time, resources, and support to make space for making a big change. The one thing I regret is that I sorely wish I’d done the second reinvention sooner. I got caught up in the music, circled the chairs too long, and inadvertently held myself back from a path I like better.
But I’m stubborn that way. Ask my Mom.
All opinions here are my own. All text is my own, too, including the em dashes. I welcome constructive comments and discussion on LinkedIn and Bluesky.