Today I walked through an empty warehouse, powered down the internet connection, collected the last IT equipment for recycling, turned off the lights, and locked the door.

For almost six years, I was often the one to handle the difficult conversations, the one to stop and drop everything to run halfway across the state to handle an emergency because we needed boots on the ground. Terminations, restructuring staff, the meetings nobody wants to be in, a fraction of my work but just as critical as anything else. That just became my job while building out an enterprise grade IT environment for the company (IT that just worked and stayed out of the way). The kind of work that never ends up in a job description, but the kind of work that finds the person willing to do it.

After a few years it became a running joke. If I showed up to a job site unexpected, the first question was “who’s getting let go now?” followed by “Bryan’s going to be the last one here. And if Bryan’s gone, we’re all done anyway.” Polite chuckles. It was always in good fun. I never took it personal and teased them right back.

Every single person I was tasked to let go from the company I tried to do so with as much dignity, respect and empathy as I could provide regardless of the reasons for the termination. Even in rough cases I still reached out and offered my hand in parting.

My time with this company is now past tense. And I was, in fact, the last one out the door. No handshake. No hug. No “you did your best.

If you’ve ever been the person in your org who does the work nobody else wants to do, you already know how this story ends. You don’t get a ceremony. You get an empty building and a set of keys to return.

And you look for the next chance to do the right thing where you can.

#OpenToWork. #Leadership

I started writing this series because I needed to air my mind. A career in technology, nothing constant but change, and a compulsion to say something about what I was watching happen.

Ten essays later, this is the last one.

It’s called Dead Reckoning, and it’s about the difference between knowing how to use the instrument and knowing how to read the water when the instrument is incomplete. A Micronesian navigator named Mau Piailug sailed 2,500 miles without a compass in 1976 because he could do both. We’re building an entire industry around people who can only do one.

If you’ve been following along, thank you. If this is your first one, the bar’s been open for a while, and there’s a seat.

(Read, The Room Where It Gets Built — Essay #10: Dead Reckoning)
 

AI is the latest advancement in automation. The job losses, the industry shifts, the civil upheaval. None of this is new folks, but that also doesn’t make it fun or exciting to be the one replaced. I’ve been on both sides of this, trust me I feel your pain.

Humans like to make work easier and more efficient. Are there still people working in some of these industries? Sure but not at the scale of their peak when these jobs would have been a career choice. Let’s just go back say 150 years…

The steam-powered drill replaced human miners (and yes, John Henry beat it once, and it killed him)

The gas-powered tractor replaced significant human and animal labor

The moving assembly line and subsequent robotics replaced the skilled factory worker

Various waves of agricultural harvesting automations have reduced the use of manual field labor (from cotton to strawberries)

(Automatic) Computers replaced human “Computers” wiping out an entire career staffed primarily by women

ATMs have replaced bank tellers

Automatic telephone switchboards eliminated an entire career path

Spreadsheets replaced formal Bookkeepers and Accounting Clerks

Desktop publishing wiped out the prepress industry

Online hotel and travel reservation booking has replaced the travel agent

And for the average person on LinkedIn, this is probably more personal than previous waves of automation because it reaches into knowledge work, creative work, and professional identity in ways people didn’t expect. For the last 40 years we told people those careers were safe.

And unless you’ve been raging against tractors, ATMs, spreadsheets, online booking, desktop publishing, industrial robotics, and every other labor-saving tool with the same energy, then maybe this isn’t really a principled objection. That’s not consolation to you or those who came before you though, is it?

Do I have an answer? No. But sci-fi writers have been proposing them for decades: universal basic income, radical restructuring of how we think about work and value, decoupling survival from employment. The ideas aren’t new. We just refuse to take them seriously until the crisis is personal. And even then, we’d rather fight about whether the automation is fair than talk about what comes after it.