Note: I have slightly altered some details of this conversation to protect confidentiality. The core content and message remain unchanged.
I live in Seattle, where it’s almost impossible not to meet a Microsoft employee. Many of my neighbors, friends, and acquaintances either work there now or did at some point.
I moved here in 2004. Before that, I lived in the Bay Area, where I went to high school, college, and started my career. At UC Berkeley’s computer science department, Microsoft wasn’t exactly admired. We were passionate about Unix, excited about Java, and proud of our open-source roots. You wouldn’t find many Windows PCs in the lab. One of my friends even interned at Microsoft, and his entire job was to advocate for Microsoft inside the Berkeley community.
By the late ’90s, when I graduated, Microsoft wasn’t the hot destination for new grads. The dot-com boom had just started—everyone wanted to join a startup.
When I moved to Seattle, I joined Amazon as an MBA hire, driven by my passion for e-commerce. But I quickly realized: in Seattle, Microsoft ruled. The pride Microsoft employees had in their company amazed me. I remember I ran into someone who worked at Microsoft telling me, with absolute conviction, that he planned to spend his entire career there. He believed it was the greatest company in the world, and he was determined to climb the ladder to become an executive.
Even though I didn’t fully understand it at the time, I respected his pride, work ethic, and belief in the company.
Fast-forward 21 years. I had the exact same conversation with this person, but the tone was completely different.
He’s still at Microsoft, but the experience has worn him down. Every April or May, he dreads performance reviews and the looming risk of layoffs. As his salary has grown, so has his vulnerability. He’s had to scramble for internal jobs more than once. He knows, from his vantage point in finance, how the system works—and how higher-paid employees often become targets.
On paper, he’s done well. Microsoft stock has soared, and he’s accumulated enough to sustain a frugal lifestyle for the rest of his life. Every quarter, he debates whether to quit. Yet he stays—burned out, cynical, and disillusioned.
He told me bluntly:
- “There’s no loyalty. Employees are just numbers.”
- “I’ve been doing the work of multiple people, but eventually I’ll just be too expensive.”
- “My only real barrier to leaving is health insurance. If I keep my income low after Microsoft, I can get cheap coverage through the exchange.”
This is someone in his early 50s. Once ambitious, driven, and proud, now completely exhausted. He no longer believes Microsoft cares about its people. The bureaucracy, politics, declining benefits, and stricter return-to-office policies have taken their toll.
And his story is not unique.
Across the tech industry, we see the same trends:
- Companies are laying off employees in the name of efficiency.
- Long-tenured employees are burned out, disillusioned, and quietly planning their exits.
- Many have enough financial security from stock gains to walk away and never come back.
This isn’t healthy for the industry. If our most experienced and capable people disengage—or leave entirely—we risk creating a shortage of mid- to senior-level technical talent. Ironically, these are the very people we’ll need most in the AI era, where junior tasks may be automated, but deep expertise, critical thinking, and domain knowledge remain irreplaceable.
The danger isn’t that AI will eliminate jobs overnight. From my own experiments, I can tell you that AI hasn’t replaced my work—it’s changed it. I spend more time QA’ing, correcting, and refining outputs. I’m more efficient, but not obsolete. AI amplifies human work; it doesn’t erase the need for engaged, inspired humans.
That’s what worries me most: not mass unemployment, but mass disillusionment.
We need to rediscover meaning in our work—why we’re doing it, what impact we’re making, and how we’re building companies worth believing in. Every executive likes to say “people are our most important asset.” But are we really acting that way?
Great companies require great people. And great people need more than stock grants and quarterly targets. They need to feel inspired, respected, and proud of the work they do.
Until we solve that, our industry will keep bleeding talent—not because AI replaces them, but because they walk away.
Ready for Your Next Chapter?
If you’re a FAANG or Big Tech employee reading this, chances are some of this story feels uncomfortably familiar. You’ve built a strong career, earned well, and maybe even hit financial independence milestones—yet you feel stuck, undervalued, or burned out.
That’s exactly why I created a coaching package to help you plan what’s next.
You don’t have to drift in uncertainty or walk away without a plan. Together, we’ll map out your Post-FAANG Career Roadmap (or as I like to call it, the FAANG Exit Plan)—a structured path to:
- Continue earning a high income while regaining balance.
- Build a fulfilling career beyond corporate burnout.
- Explore consulting, entrepreneurship, or portfolio careers with clarity and confidence.
- Create a realistic financial and lifestyle strategy that works for you and your family.
You’ve worked too hard to get here. Don’t let burnout write your next chapter—let’s design it intentionally. If you’re interested, Email me at andrew@nailyourjobinterview.com or fill out the coaching form at the bottom of my coaching page to set up 15-minutes FREE consultation.