But We're Like Molting Lobsters

As we adapt to new work and environments, we're soft and vulnerable, like freshly molted lobsters. The more we fear falling behind, the more we need colleagues who listen to and acknowledge our struggles. Leaders who ask what's hard and listen can also help us get through change together. I want to be as supportive a colleague as others have been to me.

When I read LinkedIn posts from people finding new paths by using AI well, or moving into entirely different roles and professions, they seem to be finding their way with ease and style, even in this tough world. But I bet they’re all having a fucking hard time.

So many people are being asked to change, and have to pull it off to survive, that it looks as though they’re simply taking it in stride. That doesn’t mean it isn’t hard. Maybe they’re feeling what I described in my previous post: the pain of feeling like dead weight as everything they used to be good at stops mattering, the anxiety of falling behind on their understanding debt, and envying the hell out of people who already have the skills they now need.

My colleague A, whom I respect and have learned a lot from, is a developer who takes pride in building exceptionally good UIs. They’ve been doing this for quite a while, and they enjoy and excel at crafting UIs with more care than other developers, fulfilling both the design intent and usability needs. But lately, writing code with AI agents has meant doing more work in the same amount of time, making it harder to maintain that attention to detail. They told me they’re gradually losing the satisfaction they get from their work and the sense that they’re doing a good job, and feel as if their skills are actually getting worse. They also said it makes them sad, which I thought was a really honest thing to say.

My colleague B, who was on our team for a long time, considered speed of execution a strength. They saw their ability to quickly turn abstract requests into something concrete, build it into a product, and see the result as their advantage. But lately, they told me, there have been times when they’ve struggled with the feeling that this advantage has disappeared, because they can’t outpace AI no matter what they do. Recently, they’ve been working on using AI to move even faster.

Amid all the confusion and stumbling around, I talked a lot with my colleague and lead C, who had led the organization I was in for quite some time. I did a lot of whining, and they told me they also wake up in the morning wondering what on earth they should do that day. Building and selling AI products none of us have built before, along with the rapid changes AI is bringing to development, has left them confused too. In the middle of all that, we talked about trying things we haven’t done, failing, and learning and improving through the process.

My colleague D, an HR consultant, has worked in several roles, including HR, HR business partnering, and store management. Because I’ve been so exhausted lately, I was telling them I’d burn out and be unable to keep going if I went through that kind of change several times. Learning new things and adapting is something you have to do, but this is already so hard. How could I endure it again and again? D said that having changed roles several times is precisely what gives them the drive to do it again. The first major transition was painful, but once they’d made it through, the next one became quite a bit easier.

I was talking to colleagues because I was sad, worried, and confused too. I keep hoping someone has the answer, but that isn’t the case. My colleague E, a C-level executive, says, “I don’t know how to build a successful AI product either. If I already knew how to do that, wouldn’t I be Steve Jobs?” I like hearing things like this. In an organization like this, we can listen to each other and give each other strength. The pain and confusion belong to all of us, and we’re a team thinking through them and figuring out together what to do next.

We’re like molting lobsters. Right after molting, lobsters are soft and vulnerable to predators, and their new shells need time to harden. Once the shells harden, they can protect their bodies again. The abilities that used to let us be good at our jobs no longer feel sufficient, and the new abilities aren’t ours yet. Maybe this feeling is what it’s like to have just shed our shells and still be soft.

When we’re anxious about falling behind AI or anyone else at the company, it’s a time to listen to each other within our teams and acknowledge each other’s anxiety and pain, rather than becoming isolated. Leaders need to listen too, instead of just pushing their team members harder or indifferently leaving everyone to look after their own skills. I’d argue that camaraderie matters right now. My colleagues have helped me with their words and actions, and I want to be someone who gives others strength too. If we ever have a coffee chat, I’m also having a really hard time but somehow trying to make it work, and I’ll be rooting for you all the way.

I’m waiting for my shell to harden. I feel like it needs time. I’m excited by the thought that if I spend a year or two working through this environment, I’ll become something pretty cool, whether that’s an engineer, an employee, or whatever else. This time will give me experiences I couldn’t get any other way. Right now, I get a lot of help with each part of my work. I want to get good enough at these things to give strength to colleagues struggling through similar changes. There have been quite a few times in my life when I’ve left everything behind and started something new, so maybe I can do it again. I’m still so scared every time I go to work, but I want to keep trying a little longer.