When Judd Anchin left his job at Airbnb in 2022, he had planned to switch careers. His time was his own and he had no metric to hit, making it more difficult than he had expected. He found the structure after leaving Big Technology.
Two years ago, almost 15 years after Technology, I quit my job as head of Airbnb’s design studio and looked for something new. It didn’t go at all, as I planned.
My tech career began in 2006 when I co-founded an unfortunate startup. After completing his PhD in Berkeley, California in 2010, he joined Yahoo and moved to Meta, then known as Facebook., As a UX researcher in 2012.
I joined the meta during my major growth and worked on projects like moving to mobile, first feed ads, and integrating news on Facebook.
Three years later in 2015, I moved to Airbnb as the Head of Research. For almost eight years I played a variety of roles in research, design and product. I worked directly with C-Suite on top-level projects. I couldn’t ask for more.
But the burnout was in the rearview mirror and won me. Security guards on Airbnb were changing on Airbnb as a new generation of executives arrived. Many of us had coworkers who had been hanging out in the company for too long despite their best intentions and became cynical. I felt it would come for me and didn’t want to be that guy desperately. So I flew off to the boat in 2022.
I thought I was relieved to leave and I would. However, I struggled with the toughest realization. The tech industry defined me a central part. Leave Big Technology has forced me to reevaluate the meaning of being satisfied, productive and useful. It was more difficult than I had imagined.
Leave Big Technology meant I had to rewire my approach to satisfaction
When I left Airbnb, I wanted to talk to them and teach them, but I had no specific plans. For the first few months I left my savings and my wife’s income before diving into a new field of work.
As soon as I left, I began to realize how much industry expectations had impacted my satisfaction.
Those expectations began with my time – how should I work, and how much should I work. I have never worked for Elon Musk as part of his “hardcore” work culture, but Meta and airbnb were at a fierce and fast pace.
Airbnb was particularly confusing. I worked long hours and the calendar was piled up at meetings, but it was last minute changes, constantly changing priorities, and a constant firefighter that truly cost a lot. Technology trained me to believe that work was never done and my shift was not finished.
The definition of high-tech success also nailed me. Drive metrics, crush OKRs and start on time at all costs. If it could not be measured, it did not happen. As employees, we are asked to judge ourselves and our value through these measures.
And when I left my job, it all changed overnight.
I struggled to rebuild my satisfaction without the usual signal. My time was myself. There were no meetings or goals I didn’t want to take other than what I set for myself.
At first I was surprised that my empty calendar left me with more anxiety than freedom.
I thought I could move away from the “always on” work culture, but years of training have made it difficult to make calls. I created a personal list and goals, recreating the sense of success that business metrics gave me, but I still found myself unproductive and unhappy.
Looking back, it’s clear that industry expectations were unhealthy for me. It was a narrow way that defined not only the stress and anxiety of high pressure carriers, but what big technology meant to be a useful, productive and successful individual. Faced with the opportunity to redefine what those things mean to me, I found it difficult to push out a big definition of technology.
It takes time to adapt to life after big technology
I never found a silver bullet for the challenge of moving out of big technology, but two years later I have made great strides.
One of my biggest discoveries was the importance of structure in the transition. I create that structure with what I call an “anchors.” This is an activity that creates rhythms, even if it doesn’t take much time.
Perhaps you don’t bump into the gym, read a lot, or spend time with the kids. They are great. But I think the best anchor is like work. You are excited to do it because someone is hoping you will show up and do something.
You can learn new skills, apply for time, or join community groups. As long as it is a structured duty that brings joy to you, it will do the job.
I found my anchor to love education. I am a lecturer in leadership, social psychology, and UX, and I am in the Faculty of Information Studies in Berkeley, California.
I teach only one Class A semester and I love doing it. The integrity of preparation, teaching and meetings with students is based on me. The deep satisfaction it gives me is like what my previous career provided and it is essential.
Most of my time is spent working on executive coaching, consulting and advice. All the great things I’m excited about, but they’re all fundamentally unstructured and open-ended. Without a regular rhythm in education, I think I wouldn’t move.
It takes time to adapt to life after Big Tech Tech. The relief and sense of freedom for building a new career may be mixed with your own time, your goals ongoing, and your calendar is empty.
This is normal and probably healthy. You are experiencing a retreat. If you leave Big Technology and feel the same anxiety as I did, then maybe now you can put your finger on the cause.
You’re not doing anything wrong. The change is in progress. Reprogramming deeply engraved patterns can be a tough job. But like me, you think it’s worth it.
Business Insider approached it Airbnb For comments.
