Two years after having been laid off: How my views on work have changed

| Estimated reading time: 6 minutes

Today marks two years after I received the news of just having been laid off during a session at AWS Summit Berlin. My company emails in reverse chronological order – and the order I saw them – were: “Your GitHub access has been revoked”; “You’re impacted by the layoffs”; and “People will be laid off, and you will receive an email in the next few minutes telling you whether you’re impacted”. As I went through my emails from newest to oldest, each one before made more sense, and I eventually found out that I’d lost Slack access, as well. I essentially went from telling my former colleagues from my previous company “My job is great!” at lunch to not having that job anymore one hour later.

The dissociation of me as a person from me as a row in a spreadsheet

The way and pace at which things happened felt very… alienating. That’s coming from someone who wasn’t there “live”; I can imagine it being even more so if you’ve been there as it happened. I understand that the risk of someone turning into a bad actor on their way out when given the opportunity is real, and that revoking all access ASAP is a safety measure. But it underlines and emphasises how you’re no longer the same human being who’d been working for them until just a few minutes ago. You’re just an outsider, maybe even an adversary, with whom to only interact if it can’t be avoided.

That’s when I realised for myself that even though I was a person to those I’ve worked with, I never really was more than a row in a spreadsheet for those I worked for.

Those impacted by the layoff were given access to a temporary Slack server, so they could say their goodbyes to those not impacted. (Even that appears to be unusual for layoffs; from what I’ve heard and read, most companies don’t grant people that opportunity, at all.) As with most seemingly random layoffs, those not impacted couldn’t comprehend why the ones who were impacted were the ones. It wasn’t based on performance or team fit, at least in my case. It was random. Mostly. I still believe that the equivalent of two letters in my row on a spreadsheet sealed the deal: DE.

So, in the worst possible way, I suppose they did consider one characteristic of me as a person when they made that decision.

The effects of being impacted by a layoff

That day also shattered another illusion of mine: As long as the company was doing well financially; as long as I was doing a good job; and as long as the people I’m working with want me to stay, there wouldn’t be any reason to terminate our relationship, right?

Well, maybe I should’ve been thankful that I could live with and cherish that illusion for almost 40 years, because doing more than what was expected from me was one of the main drivers for my professional growth until then. Doing my best instead of just “good enough” is still going to be part of my personality, but I won’t lie about this, either: Subconsciously, I will have doubts on whether to do so, especially on bad days.

The once-treasured ideal of a good employer-employee relationship being a reason to stay has vanished, as well. It’s pretty much boiled down to a purely transactional relationship now: I do what we agreed to do, and you pay me accordingly. While the quality of and accountability for what I’m doing is still at a pretty high level, I wouldn’t be surprised if those dropped towards the bare minimum over time with every single layoff around me. Regardless of whether I’m personally impacted, because Survivor Guilt is a thing, even when you’re told that there’s no reason to feel guilty.

What do I work for?

Besides the money to fuel all the other non-free things I want to (and need to) do in my life, purpose is my other remaining motivator for work. Digitalisation is a topic very dear to me, and Germany has been really bad at it in many areas of life.

My almost 10 years of working for the public sector may have been very frustrating at times. But it was very fulfilling to hear from happy people who could finally do simple things like requesting time off faster and with much shorter round-trip times, because neither side had to deal with actual, slow-moving paper. All of that work may even affect me in the long run: If more public workers are pushing for better processes through digitalisation – because they know it’s possible –, maybe the ones I have to go through myself are going to be better for me, as well.

Similarly, most of the medical system in Germany appears to be horribly outdated, as far as digitalisation goes. I don’t mean the medical procedures themselves, but all the surrounding paperwork. If it’s not entirely outdated, it’s in a gruesome state. The most recent prominent example has to be the “elektronische Patientenakte” (ePA), the electronic health records, which was forced through by the government despite known data security and privacy issues. I’ll inevitably make more contact with the medical system more often going forward, since I’m only going to become older and thus less healthy. But I would love a chance to contribute to some improvements before I’ll be unable to.

End-consumer banking is in a not-so-satisfying state, as well. I have yet to see any online banking interface from an “established” bank that is fun to use, let alone a mobile app. It’s as if the entire banking system were still in the mid-2000s; or sometimes questionable neobanks. Why is the most widely accepted digital way to send money to someone next to you still PayPal, even if there’s no expectation of an “instantaneous” transaction? EPC QR codes are a thing. Why can’t any of the online banking apps I have generate such a QR code for the person next to me to scan and send me a SEPA Credit Transfer (or soon: SEPA Instant Credit Transfer) for free?

And… let’s not rant talk about the education system. If I could contribute to anything to improve things on a scale larger than just tutoring/teaching a small group of students, I’d be on board faster than I could quite my then-current job.

“Purpose” also is a strong reason for me to not work in certain areas. That red line may end up being a moving one in hindsight though, just as my values have shifted relative to where they were 20 years ago. Ask me again in 20 years from now.

The current red line I won’t cross: I won’t work for/with anyone…

  • building yet another cryptocurrency platform (not like I even supported the very first one…)
  • right-wing-affiliated; or just plain right-wing
  • using exploitative tech to harm minorities and/or commit atrocities
  • Axel Springer SE (totally worth singling them out)

(Note: This is not a comprehensive list.)

Ultimately, I don’t think I’ll ever again be more than a row in a spreadsheet for any large enough organisation, regardless of its purpose. That is a fundamental change in my mindset that happened at the turning point of my professional career: my first layoff. Even if I were to somehow survive every single layoff until the end of my work life – I’ve dodged two bullets since –, each one of them will be a hit to the way I perceive work.

A bit over 24 years to go. I haven’t even made it to half-time yet. Le sigh.

It’s going to be an interesting second half…