• I'm a lawyer who decided to work in AI to try to get ahead of this technological curve.
• Over the last two years, I've struggled to keep up because AI is advancing faster than I expected.
• I feel overwhelmed and burned out by the constant conversations around AI.

For most of my career, I was a lawyer. There was something reassuring about how expertise worked in law. The longer I practiced, the more I knew.

But after years in a demanding profession, I burned out. It wasn't that I stopped enjoying law. I just needed a change.

Around two years ago, I started shifting my career toward AI because I thought it was the future. I didn't want to wake up 10 years later and realize technology had changed my profession without me.

It seemed like the smartest career move I could make. Now, I'm not so sure.

Joining the AI boom early seemed like the perfect career move

I made the transition while the AI boom was still gaining momentum. Ironically, I landed a job at a legal tech company thanks to a conversation with ChatGPT. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to combine my experience with my growing interest in tech.

My role involved testing the most advanced models, comparing their capabilities, and exploring how they could be used in legal work. I felt like I was ahead of a major change rather than trying to catch up with it.

I also became the go-to person for anything AI-related among my family and friends. People would ask me which tools to use, whether AI would replace their jobs, or what I thought about the latest developments. I enjoyed being the person who seemed to understand something that everyone was suddenly talking about.

But that feeling didn't last as long as I expected. Slowly, I began to realize that this wasn't just another new technology. It was something evolving at an almost frightening pace. And being close to it didn't necessarily mean being able to keep up with it.

What initially felt like an advantage was gradually becoming a source of pressure.

Things that took me weeks to learn or build became obsolete almost overnight

New frontier AI models and companies seemed to arrive every few weeks, each promising capabilities that the previous lacked. Just as I began understanding one model, another would appear, forcing me to reconsider everything I thought I knew about what AI could and couldn't do. There was barely enough time to breathe before "the next big thing" came.

What frustrated me most was how quickly my own work could lose its value. I spent weeks developing solutions to problems that a newer model could suddenly solve within a few minutes. Things I had carefully learned a couple of months earlier became unnecessary after a single product announcement. It was strange to put so much effort into something only to discover that the technology had already overtaken me.

And the constant learning didn't stop when I finished work. AI was everywhere. It was in the news, on social media, in conversations with friends, and in almost every discussion about the future of work. Sometimes, after spending an entire day testing models, the last thing I wanted to hear about was another breakthrough.

Yet I still felt an obligation to read about it, afraid that missing a single development could leave me even further behind. I was getting tired.

Accepting uncertainty became the only way forward

For years, I had measured my professional progress by how much I knew and how confident I felt about my abilities. AI challenged that completely. I began to question whether being good at my job meant knowing the latest developments or simply knowing how to adapt as everything changed. It was uncomfortable to accept that experience and hard work might not always provide the certainty I was used to.

I also started questioning how much of my personal time I was willing to sacrifice to stay relevant. I didn't want every conversation, evening, or weekend to become another opportunity to learn or talk about AI. I began making a conscious effort to disconnect after work, even if that meant missing an announcement or falling behind on the latest developments. For the first time, I was choosing not to know everything.

I don't regret moving into AI, but I no longer feel as certain about the decision as I once did. The technology isn't going to slow down. All I know for sure is that we are living through one of the most important inflection points in recent history, and perhaps that's what makes it all so overwhelming.

• This post originally appeared in the BI Today newsletter.
• You can sign up for Business Insider's daily newsletter here.

The credibility concern

When questions began swirling about new (and now former) White House press secretary Katie Zacharia's legal credentials, a colleague asked the obvious question: Why should anyone care?

She was hired to be President Donald Trump's spokesperson, not his lawyer. Does it really matter if she overstated her qualifications?

It does.

She was let go on Friday, five days after starting the job. That's half the time Anthony Scaramucci infamously lasted as White House communications director during Trump's first term.

Zacharia was widely panned for her performance during her first (and final) press briefing on Monday, as well as for misrepresenting herself as a lawyer.

In workplaces, it turns out, bending the truth about one's background is not only problematic, but more common than you might think. And it can carry real consequences. BI's Sarah Needleman spoke with recruiters and found research suggesting that résumé inflation is very much a thing.

A recent survey found 37% of respondents had included inaccurate information on a résumé, according to Novorésumé, an online résumé-building service. Nearly 7% said they claimed a degree, certification, or credential they didn't actually have.

The trouble, of course, is that a small embellishment can raise much bigger questions.

Brian Fink, a managing partner at tech recruiting firm The ReWork Group, told Sarah he rescinded an offer to someone after a background check couldn't verify certain information on the candidate's résumé and LinkedIn profile.

"If you're willing to lie about your education," Fink said, "what else are you willing to lie about?"

Corporate America is full of cautionary tales. Over the years, executives at Samsonite, Walmart, and Yahoo, among others, misrepresented their backgrounds and ultimately lost their jobs as a result.

Credentials matter. They are a promise of basic trust. Once that trust is called into question, it's really hard to win it back.

• Peter Csathy is a studio exec, startup CEO, media and tech advisor, music dealmaker, and podcaster.
• He calls leaving a Hollywood studio job for a startup the 'stupidest' decision of his career.
• In the long run, it led him to achieve higher heights of personal and professional satisfaction.

The following is adapted from a book excerpt.

I began my career as an entertainment lawyer in a major firm. It was a lucrative, predictable professional path that likely would have generated more money over time than my far more circuitous one —studio executive, startup CEO, media/tech advisor, music dealmaker, author, podcaster — has.

But early on, I chose a different path to pursue my bigger dream of playing a part in a major Hollywood studio. And after seemingly endless rejection, and through sheer tenacity and will, I scored the lottery when I found my way "in" — jumping the industry's velvet rope and landing in the senior executive ranks at Universal Studios.

And then, just a few years later, I left. I left to enter the great unknown of entrepreneurialism — into the world of internet 1.0 in the late 1990s where dreams were big, but salaries small. Never mind that; I was going to score big and fast in my inevitable IPO.

Only I didn't, and my decision to leave Universal in favor of an overblown internet startup (a digital greeting card company, for God's sake!) became my stupidest decision in my professional career.

My wife, Luisa, was pregnant with our first child, Hunter. It's not as if we had built a substantial nest egg up to that point. And I had been making a nice salary in Hollywood, with plenty of upward room to grow. When I announced I was leaving Universal, in fact, the big boss at the time offered me an important, prestigious new job with significantly more money. But I left anyway.

And then internet 1.0 crashed and burned — and my digital greeting card company with it. All while Luisa watched and wondered, "What the hell was he thinking?"

'Young, dumb, and done'

She was absolutely right, of course. She always has the better judgment and pulse on things. And so, at the time, we both felt that I had cratered both my career and our financial security. Young, dumb, and done.

But you know what? My worst professional mistake ultimately became my biggest professional and personal break — the best thing that ever could have happened to us (although we certainly didn't see it that way at the time, and for several years thereafter).

Here's the thing. My impulsive decision to leave Hollywood led me onto a completely different, non-linear entrepreneurial path. A path that led us down to San Diego for my next gig, pioneering online music company Musicmatch (which was acquired by Yahoo!). That's where we had our second child, Luca and settled in the beautiful hamlet of Rancho Santa Fe.

I didn't play it safe, and that decision to "go for it" opened up a whole new career path for me that I couldn't see at the time, one where I could have significantly more impact and be significantly more creative. It enabled me to take more risks, pursue more dreams, and achieve higher heights of personal and professional satisfaction (even as those risks also certainly led to more heartburn).

Now, we can't even imagine a life without Luca and his big sister Hunter anywhere else. Their lives — all of our lives — have been idyllic here in Rancho Santa Fe. Could I have been equally happy in a Hollywood studio and living in LA? Maybe. But we certainly wouldn't have had the wonderful life we've had in the same way. I'm grateful for that.

Pursuing dreams — putting yourself out there — is a far riskier way to live. But it all led to the personal and professional life I'm living today. For me, the trade-off was worth it.

Not all dreams work out — and that's okay

More recently, Luisa dreamt big and leveraged her deep spirituality to build a youth empowerment and community organizing business — something she was born to do. She's a quiet force of nature; people just gravitate toward her, effortlessly. And her business was beautiful — meaningful, impactful.

But ultimately it was all-consuming and didn't give her the satisfaction she was hoping for, because not all dreams do.

But Luisa acted. She tried it. No regrets. Who knows where that experience leads her next? It certainly expanded her network of people she respects, and those new relationships can lead to other new opportunities. It also gives us more priceless time to explore this country's great open roads together in our Sprinter van — which has always been another dream of hers. The Sprinter is her happy place when she takes the dogs to the beach, opens the back doors, and takes in the sunsets over the ocean. Now she can do all of it with no regrets of wondering, "What would have happened if I tried?" "No regrets" is a great way to live, even if there's some heartache along the way.

Our two children Hunter (now 26) and Luca (24), not surprisingly, are pursuing their own dreams too — Hunter as a creative in the entertainment business, making it entirely on her own, and Luca as a filmmaker, with no roadmap of getting from point A to point B. Both have chosen what many would caution as being an alternative, or even impractical, path.

But because we're all dreamers, Luisa and I believe they will be better and more fulfilled because of it, no matter what happens. It will add to their lore and expose them to entirely new things — all of which can add to their long-term happiness.

Gretchen Rubin, bestselling author of The Happiness Project, is widely known as being a leading expert on the subject. One of her famous mantras is, "Enjoy the fun of failure." She teaches that you simply aren't aiming high enough if you're not experiencing some level of failure or intense stress. I certainly did when my digital greeting card company flopped. Rubin's research shows that true satisfaction doesn't come from static comfort and financial security. It comes more from taking action and stretching your capabilities.

Meanwhile, research by renowned relationship psychologist Dr. Eli Finkel concludes that one of the single biggest predictors of marital success is when spouses support and champion each other's dreams. He calls this the "Michelangelo phenomenon" — a spouse's support sculpts away excess stone to help reveal the core essence of their partner's dreams. Those spouses who prioritize money over dreams, on the other hand, risk creating dangerous fault lines of toxic resentment and contempt.

How to dream big in your own life

Here are some ways to begin to "dream big" in your own life — whatever "big" means to you, because it certainly doesn't mean you need to make a career change).

1. Ask the question. This week, ask your spouse or partner, "What's a dream you've never pursued?" Then listen. Just listen, without arguing how practical it is. The "asking" is a small act of love by itself.

2. Name the cost. Every dream worth chasing costs someone something — time, money, stability, sleep. Be honest about what your dreams cost. Pretending there are none is how resentment grows. But resentment grows even stronger if you don't pursue them.

3. Create space for dreams. Don't wait until "things calm down," because they never do. Open up a specific block of time, money, or attention for one or both of you to pursue a dream in the next 12 months.

4. Cheer them on! Tell your spouse and kids that you believe in their dreams. They should never need to wonder. Silence smacks of indifference.

5. Separate the dream from the outcome. Luisa's business didn't go as planned. But the "win" was in the trying. Measure dreams by whether you acted on them, not by whether they paid off. Because many times the pay-off isn't the obvious one.

Adapted from 'Hiding in Plain Sight: 10 Secrets to a Happy Marriage & Family' by Peter Csathy.

• Melanie Dulbecco has been CEO of the syrup company Torani for 35 years.
• Dulbecco said layoffs are a choice, and that Torani's decision not to do them has helped with retention.
• She said that the company is hiring fewer people than it would be if Torani didn't use automation.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Melanie Dulbecco, the CEO of syrup brand Torani. She's based in San Leandro, California, where the company is headquartered. This story has been edited for length and clarity.

I may sound different than most CEOs.

I grew up in a blue-collar neighborhood, and my parents divorced when I was really young. When I was little, I saw my mom struggle so much, and I noticed that some kids around me didn't have the same opportunities.

I felt this sense of inequity, and that became a motivating and driving force for me. I tried working in politics, then nonprofits, and eventually went into business. I wanted to build an opportunity company. When I met the family from Torani, they liked that idea.

I was the ninth hire at Torani in 1991 and became the first CEO in 1995. We now have over 500 employees.

When I started, we made $700,000 a year in annual revenue. We've grown 20% a year on average, and this year, we plan to hit over $800 million in revenue.

But to us, growth is not a financial endeavor. The trailing indicator of success may be the financials, but we think our work together creates the momentum and value in the marketplace that drives our growth.

It's very easy for us to say layoffs are not our approach. I think layoffs are a choice. I get it if a company is going through bankruptcy and has to make extremely challenging choices. Otherwise, I think it's a financial exercise that doesn't consider how you're going to be resilient or regain momentum — because you do that with a team.

Our workers aren't concerned about being replaced by AI

Torani is currently hiring fewer people than it would be if the company didn't use automation. We use automation to deprioritize manual, rote jobs with limited career mobility. We also use AI for consumer and market research, sales forecasting, and demand planning.

However, our team doesn't get worried about things like AI because they trust that we will both automate and elevate the work, that we will never do anything that squashes opportunities for people, and that we are looking out for everybody's success.

We're often in hyper-growth mode, which means we need people to know how to work together. The ability to work together, to collaborate, to address challenges, to be resilient in tough times, is critical. This strategy has also helped with retention.

We were faced with a choice during the pandemic

We had been planning a move to our new location in San Leandro in March 2020. That happened to coincide with the stay-at-home order. It was one of those moments where, as a leader, you feel like you have to breathe into a paper bag.

We had borrowed a lot of money from the bank to build our new flavor factory. The loans were going to start coming due in April, so the executive team came together to look at what we needed to do to be OK.

Before we did that, though, we asked: What will make us proud when we get to the other side of this? We had a long discussion about it and decided that making it as one team — without any layoffs or furloughs — would make us proud.

So we we scaled back marketing and advertising expenses and paused all company travel. All departments had to review their budgets. They got scrappy to identify and eliminate non-essential costs.

During the early months of the pandemic, Torani prepared for a 50% decline in sales. Thankfully, there was only a 20% decline in April of 2020, and revenue was back up in May. We quickly pivoted to online retail and grocery to fill the gaps left by cafés and drink shops closing their doors. Torani ended 2020 with a 15% year-over-year revenue increase.

We moved to our new location in six months instead of six weeks, but we got there. We couldn't have done that if we laid off our team. We needed to come together at that moment.

• Meta is building its largest-ever data center in northeast Louisiana.
• A local community college is training data center technicians to work there.
• Data center jobs are in high demand and can pay handsomely.

Thousands of construction workers are arriving in a small Louisiana community to build Meta's largest-ever data center.

Less than an hour away, at the Louisiana Delta Community College's West Monroe campus, the next generation of data center professionals is hoping to join their ranks.

"I see AI is really the future. We're going to need data centers to house all the data," Eric Crowe Jr., 27, told Business Insider. "I feel like it will become a very lucrative job to have, and we're going to need more of them. Why not get in now before it gets oversaturated?"

Crowe Jr. is among the students who signed up for the community college's Data Center Technician program. The four-week, nearly $3,700 training course prepares students to enter the data center industry, which is rapidly expanding to support the age of AI.

Construction for Meta's nearly 10-million-square-foot data center, Hyperion, is underway in rural Richland Parish, where business is now thriving as workers flood the region.

Meta says the project will include over 7,500 trade workers on-site at peak construction and support 1,000 operational jobs once completed. For residents living in the region, where there's no state minimum wage law and agriculture is a major industry, the new opportunity to make good money in a growing sector is too enticing to ignore.

"This is a stepping stone into the real world," Dan McCarty, director of Workforce Trades at Louisiana Delta Community College, said. "We prepare you with a résumé. We work on every aspect of employability, safety, and technical skills."

The inaugural class graduated in March, and all 11 students received job offers from IES Communications, which employs people working on Meta's project. McCarty said the program, which is available at the Winnsboro campus, now produces about 24 graduates a month.

In the past, a lot of people, including myself, had to leave here to find the good jobs," McCarty said. "Now they're 30 minutes down the road."

'It's a no-brainer'

The Data Center Technician program teaches students everything from operating equipment to workplace safety. They'll also have the opportunity to earn several certificates. During a class this September, nine students huddled around Fletch Batchelor, an instructor specializing in broadband, as he explained how to splice fiber optic cables.

"Do you know why squirrels chew through cable? They like a high fiber diet," Batchelor said, earning some chuckles.

The program encourages students to take a hands-on approach, which Trey Wadley, 30, said he appreciates. During the class, he participated in a live cable splicing demonstration. Wadley, who's interested in cybersecurity and has a background in the automotive industry, learned about the program while scrolling on Facebook, which, incidentally, is owned by Meta.

"As I learned more about Meta and data centers, they piqued my interest," he said. "I said, 'Okay, this might be something that fits me and that I'm into. I decided to give it a try."

Wadley, who recently welcomed a baby girl, wants to find work with Meta's project so he can work locally. Without Meta's project, Wadley said he'd likely have gone looking for job opportunities in Texas.

The push from tech companies and the US government to build out the nation's AI infrastructure has made data center jobs a valuable new path to lucrative employment. Business Insider reported in August that the median pay for data-center facility managers was $134,000, which is 64% higher than that of other facilities managers. The median pay for project managers at data center facilities was $115,000, a 12% increase over similar roles at other facilities.

Wadley said he's hoping to secure a position paying between $25 and $30 an hour. So is Crowe Jr., who previously handled packages and drove for FedEx, where he was averaging $14 an hour.

"Here, I could make about $25 to $30 per hour. It's a no-brainer for lots of people to pivot," Crowe Jr., who has an interest in cybersecurity, said.

McCarty said entry-level positions could earn as much as $24 an hour, but students who've graduated told him they reached $27 to $28 an hour within six months.

Booked and busy

Residents in Richland Parish, like other communities in the United States, have mixed feelings about the data center. While some say it will bring new jobs and boost the local economy, others are concerned about environmental impacts and disruptions to their daily lives.

It's a reality not lost on Crowe Jr. and Wadley, but they said it's unlikely that AI will simply go away.

"I think we should focus more on solutions to how we can coexist with it," Wadley said.

Students attending the technician class in September also spent time in a mock data center on campus, where they could apply skills they'd learned in class in a real-world setting.

While they tinkered with the equipment, John Bradley, a broadband workforce development instructor, said having access to a similar program as a teen would have been invaluable.

"I chose an alternative route, which was in construction and oil fields, but if I'd have had something like this that would've guaranteed me a good job, good money from the get go, and I could travel if I wanted to, I would've loved that," he said.

Bradley said the program prepares its graduates to be hired by contractors specifically working with Meta.

"We have a special email that we give to different contractors we spoke with that are waiting for them to graduate our class," Bradley said.

However, working at Meta isn't a requirement of participating in the program. Bradley said the skills students learn during the course are transferable, especially as data centers and similar construction jobs become more popular.

"It doesn't have to be a Meta data center. You may decide, 'Hey, I don't want to work in data centers anymore.' You still got banks, you still got IT departments," Bradley said. "You can literally go to work anywhere you want and use the same trades you learned here."

McCarty said the program has a backlog of students trying to get into the course, so they're hoping to expand their offerings.

"We've got some that are fresh outta high school, but we've had students up to 60 years old," he said. "It doesn't really matter what age you decide to get into this trade. Anyone is welcome to come in and learn it."

Zohran Mamdani has places to be.

At 35, the mayor of New York City knows how to catch — and keep — people's attention. It's tempting to think the key to Mamdani's success is Instagram, but the secret sauce of his leadership isn't just a social media machine. It's a man criss-crossing the five boroughs with a portable podium and the occasional sugar-free Red Bull.

To better understand how his in-person ubiquity shapes public perception, Business Insider spent the summer tracking the mayor's daily schedule. From May 1 to August 31, Mamdani had 249 listed appointments, 170 of which were held in public. Eighty-one of these were in community spaces such as classrooms, libraries, parks, apartment buildings, tennis courts, places of worship, and restaurants.

Another 50 were government events at emergency preparedness centers and police precincts. With the exception of Staten Island — which Mamdani visited three times — his appearances dotted the city. He spent the most time in Manhattan with 85 events, followed by Brooklyn (35), the Bronx (26), and Queens (21). He made few appearances in City Council chambers and other traditional political arenas. At the mayor's home, Gracie Mansion, there were no press conferences. Instead, Mamdani hosted 10 cultural receptions, pickup soccer games, and religious celebrations.

At a time when C-suite bigwigs are delivering bad news via canned memo, and politicians are mediating their message through glossy election mailers, dozens of political analysts, media strategists, historians, and people in the mayor's orbit say that Mamdani's man-about-town style stands out.

What makes Mamdani a lesson in charisma is his ability to combine four important factors: physical presence, personal authenticity, political messaging, and active participation, a review of his nearly first year shows.

He's able to be in on the joke — poking fun at his omnipresent suit by jumping into a pool, tie and all — while still getting his message across. They're a regular part of his schedule, rather than a surprise one-off that feels like it was cooked up by a communications staffer. It's not an easy balance to strike, but the mayor's in-person events lay out a road map for other leaders.

Showing up doesn't solve all problems, and nine months into his tenure, the mayor has met his fair share of critics. Glad-handing with a few CEOs and small business owners doesn't replace the need to attract investment from blue-chip companies and buzzy startups. Despite his push for affordability, he has yet to substantially lower residents' household bills.

But his supporters and critics agree that the mayor has a natural talent for connection, turning mundane events into meaningful moments with constituents. He fuses human connection and mass media to turn heads in the cutthroat attention economy. Whether it's cheering on the Knicks in the nosebleeds of Madison Square Garden or ordering an egg and cheese with jalapeño at a Queens bodega, Mamdani knows how to see and be seen.

Between a crammed row of treadmills and elliptical machines, Mamdani straightened his blazer and stepped up to the microphone. The East Village recreation center smelled like sweat, dust, and takeout coffee. Events like this one in early July, which touted new rules to make it easier for people to cancel subscriptions, are a signature way to promote his agenda. As the images circulated online, New Yorkers could imagine Mamdani on the rowing machine next to them, complaining about how hard it was to get out of a pesky membership.

All mayors go to ribbon-cutting ceremonies and attend parades. Mamdani's retail politics events also include everyday New Yorkers in everyday settings. He gave only a few keynote speeches this summer, but he found time to visit three senior centers, seven schools, and a soccer watch party at Rikers Island. A sentiment expressed by dozens of residents is that, regardless of their personal politics, they respect Mamdani for coming to their neighborhoods. One Central Park halal vendor says he feels like the mayor understands how pricey food can be these days. A Staten Islander who has met Mamdani — and filmed a video with him — was shocked that he could rattle off deep-cut Sri Lankan cricket trivia.

Debbie Saslaw runs the video production company Melted Solids alongside Anthony DiMieri. The pair are the brains — and lenses — behind some of Mamdani's viral videos. While much has been said about the mayor's knack for social media, Saslaw says his penchant for physical presence is crucial to making his short-form videos effective. Saslaw recalls a day early in the mayoral campaign when they visited a park to chat with picnickers. She figured no one would want to speak with an underdog candidate on what turned out to be a very rainy afternoon.

"People were honking out from their cars, and one guy waved from his apartment window," she tells me. "People were stopping their bikes — there was a bike pileup."

Moments like that become social media content: More than 80 in-person events this summer earned posts on the NYCMayor Instagram — largely photos and videos of Mamdani with regular people. Only a handful of posts were policy announcement graphics or highly produced mini-documentaries.

Some critics say the energy the mayor puts into engagement is a distracting gimmick that diverts attention from controversial policies or a lack of meaningful accomplishments. With hundreds of events over the summer, Mamdani's time to negotiate and pass policies within City Hall is limited. At least on the books, his schedule shows he met with local political leaders a handful of times between May and August. On the other hand, for all but 25 of 122 days, he attended at least one public event.

The city's business leaders, in particular, say Mamdani hasn't spent enough time learning from corporate advisors, economists, or local shop owners. Of Mamdani's 249 listed events, six were with CEOs or Wall Street execs, and only a few were with small business owners. By comparison, he met childcare and day care workers more than a dozen times. While former communications leaders for Bill de Blasio and Eric Adams say past mayors have also limited their time in boardrooms and offices ("their job is to be out there," one tells me), some small-business owners feel they're getting short shrift from Mamdani as well. A vendor near one of his planned city-owned grocery stores says she feels left out of the conversation, "You're going to spend all this money on building this new infrastructure, and the basic things that we have been asking for don't get done."

Those less convinced by Mamdani's tactics say the resources the Mayor's Office pours into communications are a smokescreen. Mark Jaffe, a founder of NYC's Multicultural Business Coalition who is suing the administration over its city-run grocery store initiative, says that while Mamdani "gets people's attention," the substance is coming up short.

"He knows the issues," Jaffe says. "He just doesn't come up with good plans that can actually solve them through jobs and capitalism."

Mamdani's propensity for kissing babies and waltzing into bars has both practical and historical grounding. As people spend more of their lives conversing with AI customer service bots, half-engaged with corporate Zoom meetings, and watching political attack ads between TV episodes, they're starving for more intimate, authentic connections. When C-suite leaders and politicians try to connect with people, it can yield limited success. Whether it's a fast-food CEO taking tiny bites out of a burger and calling it a "product," tech execs looking unconvincing as they sip beer, or politicians filming stilted selfie videos, attempts to add a personal touch through a mediated platform can leave people cold.

"We are, at our core, social creatures who need to connect, and we did not evolve to connect only digitally," Amy Edmondson, a professor of leadership and management at Harvard Business School, tells me.

Mamdani is trying to resurrect a bygone era for New York City politicians — with his own new-school sheen. Mayoral calendars aren't publicly posted, and changes in record keeping, news coverage, and technology make comparisons imperfect. But historians and communications directors under previous administrations say that recent mayors struggled with the perception of being distant from their constituents.

A longtime New Jersey homeowner, Eric Adams drew criticism for his international travel and trips to exclusive nightclubs. Michael Bloomberg's billionaire status made him less relatable to regular people, NYC historian Kevin Draper tells me, even when he made an effort to meet residents around town. Bill de Blasio had a Mamdani-esque focus on affordability but, based on his dismal approval ratings throughout his mayoralty, failed to connect on a personal level. Former communications directors for de Blasio and Adams say they both had their go-to outer-borough neighborhoods, but neither had Mamdani's widespread reach.

Timing was a factor: Those two leaders tended to work later into the night, whereas the current mayor makes stops around the city much earlier. Draper says youth is also a leg up that Mamdani has over his predecessors. My analysis shows that Mamdani attended at least one event on 97 of his 122 days this summer, averaging more than two per day, and a third of these were out in the community. On busy days, he made up to seven stops.

"He has had a longer honeymoon than any other mayor," José Bayona, who worked under the Adams and de Blasio administrations, says with a laugh. "I can tell you that."

Mamdani has said he emulates Depression-era Mayor Fiorello La Guardia, who launched an early version of city-owned stores and primarily focused messaging toward the working class with his "Talk with the People" radio program. He also evokes Ed Koch, the relatively moderate mayor who dominated the 1980s, who was known for strolling the streets and riding the train, asking residents, "How'm I doin'?" The style's lineage stretches back to the 19th century, when candidates and elected officials would drum up support by giving speeches and meeting the public in their saloons and town squares. Members of Tammany Hall, a highly corrupt but popular New York City political machine, focused on in-person interactions with the working class.

There are, of course, challenges to the mayor's attempts at everyman charisma. On a practical level, it's much harder for Mamdani to show up at a sports bar these days without serious planning and a security detail. And even with sharp messaging and the reputation for popping up in unexpected places, the complexities of policy rollout and city politics have slowed his attempts to transform New York.

Mamdani is early enough in his term that he can get away with having big plans that haven't been realized, riding high on a banner sports summer and pothole politics. But as he approaches his second year in office, his constant presence outside City Hall and prolific digital footprint could become more of a liability than an asset. As Edmondson puts it: "There's always a risk of disappointment when people believe that, in your back pocket, you have a magic wand."

Interactive graphic by Randy Yeip.

• Laura Massetti spent 15 years leading teams and saw Gen Z workers struggle with unwritten rules.
• Massetti said Gen Z workers need training on communication, judgment, and follow-through.
• As AI levels technical skills, Massetti said human skills can help early-career workers stand out.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Laura Massetti, founder of Real Work Ready, which helps early-career professionals develop workplace skills. Massetti has more than a decade of experience in the corporate world, leading sales and marketing teams. The essay has been edited for length and clarity.

I spent 15 years in the corporate world, leading sales and marketing teams. I loved mentoring early professionals, but I often found myself thinking: My goodness, I wish I could make this process go quicker.

I never only look at whether someone could do the work. It is more about whether they could communicate clearly, exercise good judgment, and follow through.

As a career coach for young workers, I know there are things that you, as an employee, get judged on that no one actually puts inside the rubric. We expect people to figure them out over time, but in reality, someone has to teach them.

Gen Z needs feedback in a workplace that expects people to figure things out

I don’t think that Gen Z is unready for work. I think no one has taught them what to do.

This generation grew up with a cellphone in their hands. They’d post something on Instagram and get 10 likes. They’re used to instant feedback: Tell me what I need to grow.

That’s not how the workplace is built. We have annual reviews. You learn through experience; you learn the hard way.

Young workers are digitally fluent, which makes this generation incredible for so many reasons. But growing up digitally, compounded by the pandemic, left gaps in opportunities to practice face-to-face interaction.

Now they’re entering workplaces with other generations, and those generations set the rules.

Meanwhile, AI is taking on tasks that used to help people develop. We learned shoulder to shoulder with someone. How are new hires supposed to learn if we’re outsourcing those opportunities?

You’re being judged on things no one puts in the rubric

There are areas you’re being judged on that no one actually puts inside the rubric, including communication and clarity, prioritization and judgment, your ability to follow through, professional presence and credibility, ownership and reliability, and organizational awareness.

It’s not just about how you communicate. When you enter the workplace, do you know how to get stuff done? How aware are you of the organization you operate in?

You need to understand when to use email, when to use Slack, and when to stop by someone’s office. You can’t walk in and assume you know the rules.

In one new-hire program at a company with about 100,000 employees, a manager told me that someone had pinged the CEO on Slack to request a skip-level meeting. Mind you, that would’ve been probably 10 skip levels.

Poor thing, he had no idea. No one had told him that wasn’t how you reached out to the CEO in that organization.

I’ve also seen people show up to meetings unprepared, without what they needed or knowing how to follow up.

Dressing appropriately is something I had to learn on my own. About six months into my job, I wore a full black business suit to a meeting in Miami. It absolutely did not match the environment. I was way too formal.

Match the client’s environment and match how they dress. The other day, I saw someone meeting their manager in a suit jacket over a basketball jersey and shorts, but wearing loafers. Your job is to show your manager that they can trust you to be professionally present and to deliver.

Managers have a responsibility here, too. When we say, “They’ve been here for two years, and they’re just not getting it,” we need to ask ourselves: What aren’t they getting? What am I judging them on that I haven’t clearly explained?

Practice the human skills that will set you apart

My company now offers a six-month program that combines online training with weekly role-playing of workplace scenarios.

We practice things like how to react when you receive feedback. The goal is to give people experiences they might otherwise wait years to encounter.

My advice to every fresh graduate and those entering the workforce is that, at a time when AI is making skill sets equalizers, you will need to define how you’ll be different.

Technical skills are still incredibly important. But how do you communicate, exercise judgment, execute an idea, and get people’s buy-in?

I’ve never made a hiring decision based on technical capability alone. It’s mostly about whether I can trust that person.

Knowing the ins and outs of coding is one thing. Being able to speak to a boardroom and convince people of an idea is another ability you can bring to an employer.

Those are the skills I believe will make all the difference.

• When my husband and I became empty nesters, he retired, too.
• We used to have busy, individual lives, but now we are always together.
• It took a lot of adjustment and honest conversations, but we're learning to navigate our new normal.

My husband and I have been married for 26 years, together for 32. That's more than half my life. I thought we'd experienced just about every version of our life together.

Then we became empty nesters. And then my husband retired.

We're now together 24/7 with nowhere else we need to be, and I realized that all these years, I'd never spent this much time with him.

Since the day he brought home his office belongings, I've caught myself thinking more than once, "Oh, you're still here?

Our home feels different now

Without school schedules or workdays organizing our lives, we have more unstructured time than we know what to do with. We navigate quiet hallways lined with unoccupied bedrooms.

We now split the responsibility for coddling our cat, who suffers from separation anxiety. We announce, "We're back," to the furniture and the cat, forgetting we left the house otherwise empty.

Our aching hearts inspired us to collaborate on a shared list of silver linings. We drafted wish lists, imagining what we could do now that we no longer had to accommodate five personalities with varying interests.

While we shared many ideas and dream list to-dos — things like traveling to Tuscany for cooking and painting retreats — we hadn't anticipated that our day-to-day would also require attention and planning.

The trouble with together-time all the time

Throughout our marriage, my husband and I had always noted how similar his parents and mine were. Connected at the hip, one parent was seldom without the other.

We, on the other hand, prided ourselves on allowing each other space. We'd spent decades insisting we weren't like them — valuing independence, traveling separately, and encouraging each other to pursue our interests.

Then, when my husband retired, we instantly became our parents. With freedom to do whatever we wanted, we fell into the rhythm our parents had modeled: together all day, every day.

Sometimes you really can have too much of a good thing.

I'm an introverted writer who loves spending time in my rich inner world. He's an extroverted adventurer always on the go — kayaking, swimming, walking on the beach, sometimes all three in the same day.

One day, the realization that we had to structure our time hit hard. I'd been sitting at my writing desk when my husband opened the door to ask what we were having for lunch.

Not wanting to be rude, I talked with him for a moment, then asked for a few minutes to finish my thought. He left. I stared at my screen, hands still on the keyboard. My thought was gone.

While we enjoy being together, we're learning the importance of agreeing on when to be together and when to allow each other space.

We're creating a new rhythm

Mornings offer the perfect opportunity to plan our day over coffee, breakfast, and a card game — usually rummy. Between playful attempts to end each other's winning streaks, we check the weather, compare plans, and decide what we'd like to do. Our morning ritual helps shape our lives now that external demands no longer impose structure on our time.

Unless we have plans with friends, mealtimes serve as natural meeting points. An unexpected result: his cooking is improving. I'm now enjoying gourmet meals in the middle of the day, and again at dinner. He gets to run around outdoors, while I get to lock myself in my attic feminine sanctuary and write.

In the evenings, we wind down together. After sharing a home-cooked meal, we enjoy a movie or simply each other's company.

We're embracing new opportunities to grow together

Now that we're home together most of the time, honest communication, negotiation, and compromise have become essential tools. After decades of countless demands on our time, we're now free to choose how we spend it.

We're not always perfect. Some days, I join him outdoors when I'd rather stay home. Sometimes he interrupts when I'm in the flow.

I'm learning to ask for space when I need it. He's learning that he can pursue his desire to travel — even without me.

After 32 years, I never imagined we'd have to learn how to spend time apart. Having all the time in the world together doesn't mean we have to spend every minute of it that way.

These days, staying happily married sometimes means knowing when to leave each other alone.

• Kiley Pulley became Walmart's youngest US store manager at 21, starting as a cashier at 16.
• Her former store manager helped her through her succession plan and interviews.
• Pulley emphasizes learning daily and adapting for career growth.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Kiley Pulley, a 23-year-old Walmart store manager in Buckeye, Arizona. It has been edited for length and clarity.

In 2019, when I was 16 years old, I started working at Walmart as a part-time cashier. I wanted my own money, and figured, why not just get a job?

My sister and my mom were already working there, and it was also right down the street from my high school. It was easy for me to get out of school and walk to work.

Over the next few years, I moved through different roles, from cashier to stocker to online fulfillment. Then, when I turned 18, I became an academy trainer, and six months later, a digital team lead.

When I became a team lead in mid 2021, it hit me that I wanted to stay at Walmart full time and make it my actual career. At 19, I became an operations manager, and right before I turned 22, I became the youngest store manager at Walmart in the US.

People ask me, "How did you do it?" My answer is to show up and learn something new every day. Here are six things I've learned along the way.

I realized I could help people by hiring them

Originally, I wanted to start either my own nonprofit or my own business and help out the homeless population; then I realized that I could do all that through Walmart.

I could make a difference through the people that I hire and the impact that I have on my associates at the store.

When I became a team lead, I was making good money, and I also really liked it. I started actively working toward becoming a store manager. I got on succession plans and was on monthly calls with our market manager. When I became an operations manager, I led multiple projects in our market to get myself ready to become a store manager.

I'd also ask to cover for store managers when they'd take off work; that way I could gain additional experience that was needed to be promoted. I remember thinking, I'm going to be a store manager at 21. I'll be the youngest in the company.

I had to learn that my words carried more weight

As an associate, I was friends with everybody. I could joke around with everyone. When I became salaried, everything changed.

One of the biggest learning points for me has been the way I talk and how to engage with people from different cultures. Changing my tone and limiting the joking and playful attitude felt necessary as a leader in the building.

At the time, setting new boundaries for myself made me feel more confident in my new role and even now in my current role.

I was a little nervous when I first went into a salaried position. People said I might have issues managing those older than me, but I've never had problems with my team not respecting or listening to me.

I also made my social media profiles private. I think connecting on social media can make it harder to separate between being someone's manager and being their friend.

I had to learn how to delegate

Getting out of the "if I want it done the right way, I'll do it myself" mindset was a big learning. I realized not everyone's going to know everything that I know, and if I really want to delegate and get tasks done, I'm going to have to teach and train.

A big part of being an academy trainer and team lead is training your associates. Once you get to operations manager, you kind of have to step back and expect your team leads and academy trainers to do that same thing.

I had to learn that if I delegated, things could get done faster or more efficiently.

I had to learn to be a servant leader

When it comes to my associates, if they need something, whether that's ordering the supplies or putting in tickets for them, I want to do that. I want to advocate for them.

I know it makes them more productive, but they'll probably be happier coming to work, too.

Also, everyone likes the appreciation of, "Hey, thank you for doing this today," or "Thank you for going above and beyond on this."

I had to learn to have work-life balance

When I first became salaried, I was always on the clock. I stopped going to the gym, and I sacrificed some time with my fiancé and family. I'd stay at work and say, "They need me."

It was my fault; the team didn't need me that badly. Now, I'm doing better. When I get home, I'm not spending the whole day looking at metrics or constantly texting my team. I've gone back to the gym.

I learned to take a step back and trust my leaders to do what they need to do. I trust that they know what they're doing.

I think there's always going to be some event you could miss out on. That can be hard to juggle sometimes, but I'm lucky enough to have a fiancé who's also career-focused and driven, so we kind of use each other as motivation.

I realized I could build a career without giving up on school

I went to college for business and ended up dropping out when I got my salaried position. I told myself that I'd get back into college when I got my first store.

My old store manager was the one who promoted me through all of the hourly supervisor roles. She even prepped me for my first salaried role. She sat in the office reading interview questions with me. Every time I'd say the word, 'um,' she'd say, "Nope, restart."

She was constantly there for me, and even still having her as someone to go to has been great. My market manager has also known me since before I started promoting. Every time I think I'm too young to be in this room, he's always in my corner.

I'm now enrolled in Live Better U, a program where Walmart pays for certain bachelor's degrees. I'm getting some of my foundational courses, and then I plan to get my college degree.

Keep pushing to learn more

For teenagers starting out, I encourage them to do a good job and learn as much as they can.

Companies are constantly changing, especially with technology. It's important to adapt and not be comfortable with what you already know.

When I look at my future at Walmart, I told myself I'd get to market manager at 27 or 28 — that's my short-term goal. Then, long-term, my goal would be regional EVP.

One thing I always remind myself is that I worked hard to get to this life, so I can't be upset now that I have it. Maybe we don't have time to do all the fun things right now, but if we work hard through our 20s, thinking about where we might end up when we're 30 or 40 keeps me motivated.

• Covista CEO Steve Beard treats the chief of staff role as a rotating post, not a permanent job.
• He said the first one he hired told him he talked too much in meetings — feedback he welcomed.
• The downside, Beard said, is having to replace someone performing at the peak of their abilities.

Most chiefs of staff don't stick around for very long. Covista CEO Steve Beard sees that as a feature, not a bug.

Since taking the helm at the healthcare education giant five years ago, Beard has appointed four chiefs of staff, with a few months of overlap between hires to preserve continuity. He treats the role as a leadership rotation rather than a permanent job, bringing in people with backgrounds that match his evolving needs.

His first chief of staff specialized in finance, the second in strategy, the third in technology, and the fourth, who started recently, in management consulting.

"Each of my chiefs of staff has looked different because I've been in a different place in my own journey at the time that they've come on board," Beard told Business Insider. "It really is defined by the leader and the moment."

The median tenure for chiefs of staff is 2.3 years, a length that reflects both the job's intensity and its potential as a springboard to more senior positions, according to a 2024 report from McKinsey.

That is also roughly the amount of time Beard said he considers appropriate for the job — and long enough for those in it to advance their careers afterward. His first chief of staff moved into a CFO role at one of Covista's universities, and the second became a vice president overseeing the company's business-to-business operations and clinical partnerships. The third is preparing to become a vice president of enterprise pricing.

"It takes about one year to really get in a groove," said Beard. "By the time you're approaching three years, that's a pretty grueling pace."

The demands of the job help explain why. Beard oversees five educational institutions that train students for careers in healthcare. Most weekdays, he said he's at his desk around 7 a.m. and leaves after 6 p.m. His chief of staff works closely with him throughout, starting with a 15-minute meeting to review priorities and prepare for what's ahead. They stay in close contact when apart and occasionally travel together.

Beard said a key part of the job for his chiefs of staff is to give him honest feedback about how he interacts with his executive team, clients, investors, and others. He recalled how his first chief of staff told him he was talking too much in leadership meetings. He began holding back, allowing others to share their views before weighing in.

"I found that I actually learned more by listening to the conversation amongst the team," said Beard.

When he's ready to bring on a new chief of staff, Beard said he taps a variety of channels to identify potential candidates, including his own network, traditional search, and Covista's existing employee base. Of the four he's hired, two came from within the company.

Beard said he looks for people who can influence without relying on authority, build strong relationships, bring a fresh perspective, and move comfortably between strategy and execution.

Once on board, Beard said he asks his new right-hand advisors to take a fresh look at his routine and suggest modifications or improvements. One reorganized his executive team's meeting cadence, another introduced AI into office workflows, and his newest chief of staff is leading a five-year retrospective on his tenure to help shape the company's next chapter.

Beard's revolving-door strategy isn't without drawbacks. He said replacing a chief of staff means giving up someone who is performing at the peak of their abilities and starting over with someone who needs time to build the same rapport and shorthand.

"You do have to slow down to speed up a bit," he said.

• Felipe Rochi lost one of his jobs while his wife was pregnant with their first child.
• They decided to take the leap and grow their side hustle — a rental camcorder business — together.
• As new parents, the two of them split the tasks involved in running the business.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Rachel Calaj and Felipe Rochi, a married couple in their 30s. Together, they run a wedding camcorder rental business that they started as a side hustle. The following has been edited for length and clarity.

Rochi: I'm an SEO supervisor. I also had a second job in the SEO space, but I was terminated this summer, in early June.

Calaj: I've been a school psychologist, typically hired through an agency to work for a district on a contract basis.

We found out we were pregnant last December, and my contract ended in May. We were trying to think throughout that time what we would do next year.

Felipe lost his job before our baby shower

Calaj: As a first-time mom, I wanted to stay home with my child. We were trying to see if Felipe's two jobs would be enough for me to do so. Then, he got terminated the day before our baby shower. It was a very sad moment for us, but we still had a great time at the baby shower, even if it wasn't the best timing.

Rochi: Unexpectedly losing my job and her contract ending around that time impacted our income significantly.

Calaj: It changed everything for us; it was a turning point. We were in the middle of buying baby clothes and all the things that you need.

Rochi: I applied for a decent number of jobs. You never hear back from jobs fast enough. You're just waiting to see if you got it. My dad owns a cleaning business, so we considered asking him for work in the meantime. With a kid on the way, we were thinking about anything I could do.

Calaj: I reached out to the district that I worked for the previous year to see if I could do some flexible, part-time contract work. We were trying anything we could to have extra income at that point.

We turned an idea into a new income stream

Rochi: In April, I saw videos of somebody renting camcorders to people to record their weddings, and then editing the footage for them.

I immediately thought it was a really cool idea.

My brain started to spin. Before even telling Rachel, I created a website and a TikTok account for our business, Pass the Cam, and posted a few videos just to see if it could work. I've tried a lot of side hustles over the years, including starting a newsletter that sent people entry-level remote job postings and creating a product called DooBagz, a bag dog owners could clip on to hold a used poop bag. However, they didn't work out.

Calaj: With this camcorder side hustle, I could see real momentum behind it from the start. Felipe hit the ground running, and when our first order came in, I was so excited.

Our first orders gave us hope we could do this

Rochi: We were at T.J. Maxx one Friday night when somebody reached out and said their videographer canceled and she needed our camcorders the next weekend. I was like, "Oh snap, I have to ship this out ASAP."

I bought a Sony 4K camcorder and memory card from a camera store nearby for around $1,100, including the warranty, picked it up on Saturday, and bought a random box to ship it to her.

Because we didn't have the money to pay an editor right away, and we were trying to pay off the camcorder I'd just bought, I edited the footage she sent back, since I have a little bit of experience with editing. She loved it.

That first client was in May, before I lost my job. By the end of the month, we had gotten two more clients.

It gave me something to fall back on when my termination happened in June. I said, "Hey, I got a couple of clients out of this, so why not try this more?" I was still applying for jobs, though, because a second job felt more secure than betting on a side hustle.

Calaj: Of course, there was still some uncertainty. You always wonder whether something will take off or eventually fizzle out.

We've had nearly 100 clients since we started

Rochi: Our goal is to reach 100 clients by the end of 2026. We're nearly there, and we still have some months to go, so I think it's possible.

We've made over $50,000 in net volume since starting in May, about half of which was in September alone.

I see more camcorder rental businesses showing up compared to when we started, but with millions of weddings a year in the US, I believe there's room for everyone.

We try to price our packages slightly lower than our competitors, run almost monthly promos, and include everything without charging for add-ons.

We actually dropped the prices for our two most expensive packages in order to stay competitive. Our packages are $429 for our starter package, $699 for the core package, and $899 for our deluxe package. They differ in terms of the type and number of camcorders, the length of edited video, and additional attachments like microphones and lights.

Calaj: I handle the operations side, like managing bookings, handling shipping logistics, ordering packaging, hunting down the best deals on boxes and stickers, and growing our camcorder inventory. The cameras are probably the biggest expense that we have at this moment, but it's been worth it so far.

My husband leads marketing and is the main point of contact for every couple we work with. He takes care of the camcorders themselves, making sure each one is working properly and set up with the right settings before it ships. He also works with our editors and reviews their work, so everything we send out is top quality.

On top of that, he manages our finances, making sure we're smart about what we earn and how much we reinvest back into the business.

Rochi: Sometimes overbooking happens, or we don't have enough inventory. I think that's all part of learning a new business.

We wish we'd had something like this at our wedding

Rochi: Some might disagree with our ways, but we know how expensive weddings already are.

Calaj: When we got married about four years ago, we did more of an elopement-style wedding with our close friends and family because we were starting off in our careers. We had disposable cameras; we still have those pictures around our house.

To hear that wedding videos can now cost thousands of dollars — it's just an insane amount.

We both said that if camcorder rentals were around when we got married, it would be a really cool thing to do. It's really sweet looking at the videos; it just feels very homey.

Rochi: The coolest part is hearing back from the couples over text or in reviews.

We became new parents in August

Calaj: It's definitely been hard to be new parents, but we love it.

Rochi: I always told her my goal: "I want you to stay home and be with our kids." I've stopped looking for a second job. The way the business is going now, and if I keep my full-time SEO job and the growth of our camcorder business keeps going, she won't have to go back to work.

Calaj: It's been really promising so far. At the moment, I have no plans of going back. Once my baby got here, I was like, "Yeah, I cannot imagine going back in six weeks."

It's really special to spend our time building something that's ours.

Rochi: There's no better feeling than knowing we trusted each other enough to take the leap. We lost an income, had a baby on the way, and had no idea what was ahead, but we believed this could work. Seeing it actually work has been incredible.

After 20 years of balancing her corporate leadership roles with motherhood, Trisha Daab was ready for a break.

"Life had felt like sprinting a marathon for as long as I could remember," Daab, 47, told Business Insider. "I had no idea how tired I was until I stopped working."

In her year off, she tap danced, volunteered at a food bank, traveled to Disneyland and Alaska, and spent more time with her kids. By the end, she had decided she couldn't go back to her old life.

"My job often demanded that it came first — never-ending to-do lists, urgent emails, travel, and always chasing the next promotion," Daab, who's now a travel writer and substitute teacher, said. "Stepping away helped me realize my priorities had shifted."

Now in their 30s and 40s, many millennial women are skeptical of corporate and instead becoming business owners, content creators, and mothers, prioritizing more flexible work schedules. Instead of striving to get to the top, they're inverting Sheryl Sandberg's mantra of the 2010s — and leaning out.

Sandberg, Meta's former COO, told Business Insider that the corporate exodus is due to women feeling undervalued at work.

"This is not the women who are saying, 'I don't want to do it,'" Sandberg, 57, said. "It's the women saying, 'I don't want to do it because I'm not wanted, I'm not getting the same opportunities and the same support, and I face an unfair burden at home.'"

Even Lean In, the organization founded by Sandberg and named after her 2013 bestselling book, is noticing a recent shift in women's ambitions in the workforce.

According to the organization's 2025 Women in the Workplace report, published in December 2025, which surveyed 9,500 US employees across 124 organizations, women were less likely to say they wanted a promotion compared to men. This was true when filtered to include only millennials, who made up roughly one-third of participants.

When asked why, over 28% of millennial women said "personal obligations" made it hard for them to take on more — compared to 17% of millennial men.

Annie Wright, a licensed psychotherapist who works with Silicon Valley leaders, has also observed more of her millennial female patients shifting their ideas about what constitutes a fulfilling career.

"I'm watching them make more person-centered choices than necessarily career-only-driven choices," she told Business Insider. "I don't think many millennial women are becoming less ambitious. I think they're just becoming less willing to confuse ambition with self-erasure."

The rise and fall of the have-it-all girlboss

Let's, for a moment, remember what is now referred to as the "girlboss era" of the 2010s.

It was a time of She-E-O-led startups, of crushed velvet sofas and the words "I Want It All" aglow in cursive neon lettering. Of earnest enjoyment of "Fight Song" and T-shirts with earnest phrases like "feminist" and "woman up."

Of a future that was female, tinged millennial pink — until a series of public reckonings punctured the fantasy. Leaders of several companies stepped down amid allegations of toxic workplace cultures, exposing the facade of the girlboss promise.

Then came the remote work culture of 2020. Suddenly, many women had time to breathe, whether that meant not rushing to day care pickup, having more time to work out or see friends, or simply not being "on" all the time.

For some, the slowly creeping requirement to return to the office dealt the final blow.

Misty Heggeness, a professor at the University of Kansas specializing in gender economics, described the influx of new RTO policies by some companies as having a "chilling effect."

"That does disproportionately disadvantage women in general," Heggeness told Business Insider, "just because women are more likely to carry an invisible load of work within families."

The working mom paradox

After the birth of her first child, Kendra Rothermel switched from full-time to part-time work as an office manager while her husband remained at his full-time job. "As we grew our family, it made sense for me to have a more flexible schedule," Rothermel, 34, told Business Insider.

When she had her third baby, his clubfoot diagnosis meant frequent orthopedic appointments. Even part-time work wasn't flexible enough, so she eventually started her own venture helping small businesses with operations and marketing.

Rothermel said she was partly inspired by watching other working moms do the same.

A recent analysis of job-market data by Matthew Nestler, a senior economist at KPMG, found that labor force participation between December 2023 and May 2026 decreased among college-educated women with children under 5. Meanwhile, participation increased for women without children and most groups of men, including fathers.

Because millennials are generally having kids later than previous generations did, Heggeness said parents, moms in particular, are more likely to be parenting young children just as their work responsibilities are ramping up.

"If they were going to lean out, now would be the time," she said, whether it's to save on childcare costs or introduce more flexibility.

Add to the list aging parents. The costs of childcare and eldercare, sometimes unaffordable even with the intense work commitments required to afford them, have prompted some women to leave their full-time jobs for more flexible or minimum-wage work.

To Sandberg, it's a sign that companies are not adequately adjusting to meet women where they are, whether that's offering more flexible hours, longer parental or bereavement leave options, or better healthcare coverage.

"We're at a critical moment in time for women, because what a lot of women are seeing is that commitment to them in leadership pulling back," Sandberg said. "Then what's happening to them is their ambition is pulling back. And that's a loss. It's a loss for our economy. It's a loss for our companies. It's a loss for our children."

The allure of going at it alone

Not all women who are leaning out are doing so because they are overworked. Some, like Heigi Jeong, 30, have dreams beyond corporate America.

"While I wouldn't say I loved the work, I liked it," Jeong, who made $173,000 working in product design, told Business Insider. "It was my dream job as an immigrant, and it was sustainable."

Still, Jeong was pulled toward her other ambitions: writing a book and being a content creator. She was also intrigued by the idea of being her own boss.

"When I'm working for myself, I entirely choose the role I will play," Jeong said. "I wanted to experience it myself and have my own take rather than constantly wondering 'What if I quit?'"

Three months after quitting, she enjoys not feeling as rushed as she used to, even if the price is an inconsistent income.

Both Heggeness and Wright have noted a growing interest in entrepreneurship and self-employment among women. A 2024 Census working paper found that the share of women business owners under 45 rose between 2012 and 2020, with the biggest increase among women ages 25 to 34. It also found that newer women-owned employer businesses were disproportionately owned by women under 35.

The creator economy opened another path. More than 200 million people worldwide now identify as content creators, though that broad figure includes far more than full-time influencers. Some Gen Z and millennial consultants are even leaving MBB and Big Four firms to build audiences and businesses online — trading the girlboss crown for a bubble headband.

In a 2023 Vogue article, writer Daisy Jones wrote that the newest iteration of girlboss swaps grind culture with the similarly perfectionistic "soft life" defined by travel and lucrative brand deals. Pantsuits were exchanged for sweatpants; speaking engagements and spread-thin multitasking gave way to self-care and supplement stacks.

"In some ways, the career woman appears to have been replaced by the health-conscious woman," Jones wrote, "the one who prioritizes her vitamin intake, hydration, and sleep cycle over endless meetings and salary increases."

Content creation doesn't come without its own costs. Plenty of influencers report feeling financially insecure or overworked, unable to take a day off without losing money.

Still, if they're going to burn out or worry about their job security, some figure they might as well enjoy their autonomy to create their own schedules.

"For some women, there's been a paradigm shift in values," Wright said. "Promotion or success now looks like more availability, presence, and freedom."

When everyone leans out

Sandberg, who herself stepped down as Meta's COO in 2022 to pursue philanthropy and early-stage investing ventures, said she supports women's career choices, whatever they may be.

"I think being at home with your children is great," she said. "Going back to school, great. Starting a company, great. Going part-time, great. Anything you want to do is great."

Part of the issue, she said, is that without female leaders, there are simply fewer people to advocate for the very policies that make other women more excited to move up in a company, be it egg-freezing coverage, lactation rooms, or more competitive maternity leave options.

It's why she feels companies need to do more work to assess why women are leaning out enough to jump ship entirely. "It's easy to overly characterize the words 'lean in,'" she said. "What I mean by them is very clear: I think women should make decisions based on believing in their own abilities, based on believing that they should and can have the same opportunities as men."

It's just a shame, she continued, if the decision stems from not feeling valued enough in the corporate world.

"I just hope that enough women want those senior leadership roles," she said, "that we get the environment for women that they deserve."

• Katie Zacharia left her White House press secretary job after five days.
• Anthony Scaramucci can relate.
• The internet is awash with memes that measured Zacharia's run in "Scaramuccis."

Katie Zacharia’s run as White House press secretary lasted five days, and memes about her exit are rolling in.

There is someone who can relate: Anthony Scaramucci, whose brief stint as Trump’s White House communications director in July 2017 became a pop-culture unit of time — a “Scaramucci,” or “Mooch” — for measuring short-lived political appointments.

Scaramucci held the role for roughly 10 days — six if not including the time lapsed between Trump's announcement and his first day — before Trump fired him.

Scaramucci has been following Zacharia's journey closely and, in a series of tweets, has gone from wishing her well to offering advice.

It started on Thursday, when Scaramucci placed his bet that Zacharia would "make it."

The bet on Zacharia was short-lived. By mid-Friday, Scaramucci was addressing her departure.

Scaramucci also offered Zacharia direct advice.

Meanwhile, the internet has been creating math equations over how many "Scaramuccis" Zacharia had lasted, suggesting she become the new benchmark.

Workers have long been told to stay in a job for at least a year to avoid looking uncommitted to future employers. A string of short stints can still raise eyebrows, but the dates on a résumé don’t always tell the whole story.

Leadership consultants have previously told Business Insider that quick moves that come with more responsibility and opportunities to build skills can strengthen a résumé, in which quick changes in roles could be seen as a sign of ambition and adaptability rather than instability.

Zacharia succeeded Karoline Leavitt, who left in August to spend more time with her young children. She became Trump’s sixth press secretary across his two terms, and the fourth to last less than a year.

While there is helpful career advice out there for Zacharia, a LinkedIn profile picture of Zacharia with the infamous "#Opentowork" tag has also taken off on X. The tweet was originally posted by the Democrats' official account.

The green tag itself has been a much-debated topic on the professional networking platform.

Some recruiters have previously told Business Insider that the label is the "biggest red flag" to hiring managers because it suggests "desperation." Data from 2024, however, show that workers with the public green tag receive 40% more messages from LinkedIn Recruiter than those who use only the private signal.

• Anthropic published new surveys comparing its staffers' sentiments to those of US workers.
• The AI startup's employees expect the tech to change work and the economy far more dramatically.
• Most Anthropic employees guessed that unemployment would top 12% in 2030.

Anthropic employees believe that AI will make their labor obsolete. Most US workers don't see their jobs that way at all.

The AI company published research on Friday that compares surveys with US adults against an internal poll of 1,334 Anthropic employees. Most of the Anthropic staffers said AI will handle at least 80% of their jobs by 2030, while only about 5% of the US workers felt the same.

The research, titled "The AI expectations gap," shows the chasm between how the employees at the AI startup feel and how other American adults feel. Anthropic workers are far more optimistic about the progress of AI capabilities, how much it's already saving time, and how fast the economy will grow.

The median Anthropic employee said that by the end of 2030, they expect AI to handle 95% of the work of building a new AI model.

Peter McCrory, Anthropic's chief economist, wrote on X that the views might help outsiders prepare for more capable AI systems.

"We're publishing this research because Anthropic runs roughly a year and a half ahead of the economy on AI adoption, so what happens at Anthropic could be a leading indicator for the broader world," he said.

Anthropic workers expect higher unemployment and extreme GDP growth

Anthropic's surveys examined how workers already use AI and how they think it will change.

"US adults and Anthropic staff largely agree about what AI can do today," the researchers wrote. "However, they disagree about how quickly it will improve, how widely it will be used, and how large the productivity gains measured by time saved will be."

There are a few possible explanations for the discrepancies. Anthropic employees have larger budgets for the tools and often get access to unreleased models. US workers, on average, are more likely to work with their hands or in a service industry.

The researchers found that workers in manual trades, production, and transport thought AI would handle the least of their work by 2030, compared with Anthropic staffers, tech workers, and respondents in business and finance.

Most Anthropic employees surveyed said that they expect the unemployment rate to top 12% in 2030. The majority of the US workers thought it would hover around or under 8%. It's currently 4.2%.

So far, researchers have found mixed evidence on AI disrupting the job market — a Yale team recently found it had mainly changed jobs, and had "no connection" to changes in unemployment.

The Anthropic researchers also compiled survey responses to estimate predictions on economic growth. Based on their answers, the median US adult's guess for GDP growth in 2030 was 5.4%, compared with 17.1% among Anthropic employees. The country's GDP grew by 2.2% last year.

Anthropic's staffers are following their leader

Anthropic's CEO, Dario Amodei, has become one of the industry's most closely watched voices on labor upheaval. In March of 2025, he said he expected AI to write 90% of code within 6 months, and "essentially all of the code" within the year. He made more headlines that May, telling Axios that AI could wipe out half of entry-level white-collar jobs within five years and lift unemployment to 10% or 20%.

Amodei expanded on that claim in a later essay, writing that he expects AI to be different from prior technological changes. He wrote that he expects an "unprecedented" short-term shock to labor, and that the economy will grow dramatically.

"AI isn't a substitute for specific human jobs but rather a general labor substitute for humans," he wrote.

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• Nvidia's communications operation has been reshaped as the company became the face of the AI boom.
• Roughly 15 staffers have left the lean team since 2025 as Nvidia reorganized its communications org.
• Former employees described growing workloads as responsibilities expanded.

Nvidia's communications organization has been reshaped as the company became the face of the AI boom, with multiple teams brought under new leadership and a string of departures.

Business Insider identified roughly 15 communications employees who have left Nvidia since 2025, based on LinkedIn profiles and interviews with former employees.

The organization now numbers roughly 70 to 80 people globally, and has more than doubled in size since Mylene Mangalindan joined as vice president of corporate communications in 2023, according to a person close to the company.

The departures have also included newer hires. Anna Soellner, who was recruited to lead corporate communications, left after roughly four months, Business Insider previously reported.

Nvidia is known for high retention. It reported companywide turnover of 3.7% in fiscal 2026, up from 2.5% the prior year, and well below the tech industry average of 21.9% cited in its latest sustainability report.

Mangalindan succeeded longtime communications chief Bob Sherbin, who retired in 2024. She previously worked at the advisory firm Brunswick Group.

She was brought in to "bring fresh blood" and "upgrade the team" to meet Nvidia's growing profile, one former employee said.

At the end of 2024, Nvidia restructured its communications organization. It brought enterprise public relations under Mangalindan's leadership alongside the corporate communications team she already led, according to two former employees.

Corporate communications focuses on Nvidia's reputation and major media outlets, while enterprise handles product and industry messaging, including for its data center business.

One former employee said the consolidation reflected the growing importance of Nvidia's data center business, which sells chips and systems that power AI and had become its biggest revenue driver.

Analyst relations, social media, and influencer marketing also moved under Mangalindan's remit this year, another former employee said.

Three former employees said Nvidia's communications team had long operated with relatively lean staffing, even as workloads grew alongside the company's public profile, leaving staff juggling multiple responsibilities.

These employees said they experienced long hours, difficulty taking time off, and pressure to respond quickly to emails and Slack messages.

A person close to Nvidia said the company's lean staffing allows employees to move quickly and also requires long hours. The person said Mangalindan encourages staff to take vacation, though the team's small size can make scheduling time off difficult, particularly in the summer.

Nvidia is widely known for its demanding work environment. CEO Jensen Huang has emphasized operating at the "speed of light" and is known for fostering a culture of constant accountability.

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• Billionaire VC Vinod Khosla is hiring a chief of staff to help evaluate investments and work with founders.
• The role requires a three-year commitment, 12-hour days, and availability on nights and weekends.
• The opening comes amid growing demand for chiefs of staff and an AI-fueled venture capital boom.

One of the biggest names in venture capital is looking to hire a new right-hand person.

Vinod Khosla, founder of Khosla Ventures, said on X Thursday that he's seeking his next chief of staff, a job that offers a rare opportunity to work in close contact with the billionaire investor whose Silicon Valley firm is known for its early bets on OpenAI, DoorDash, and Instacart.

"What matters is how quickly you learn, the questions you ask, and whether you can think from first principles," Khosla wrote. "You'll help evaluate opportunities and work with founders building consequential companies."

The opening comes as demand for chiefs of staff is growing at a fast clip, with the role offering a potential path to senior leadership. For the person Khosla hires, it also offers a front-row seat to an AI-fueled venture capital boom.

A hot job

Job postings for chiefs of staff on Indeed were nearly 90% above pre-pandemic levels in September, far outpacing management jobs and postings overall. In the San Francisco Bay Area, the median advertised salary for the role is $175,000, compared with about $152,000 nationally, according to Indeed.

Through the first three quarters of this year, US VC deal value reached $516 billion across an estimated 14,199 deals, according to PitchBook. That is already the highest total in the research firm's dataset and roughly 44% above the prior record, set in 2021.

Most chiefs of staff in the US stay in the same profession when they change jobs, but some move into senior leadership roles, according to a March study from LinkedIn. Becoming a chief operating officer was the second most common career move, accounting for 2.9% of transitions. Another 3.7% became founders or cofounders, while 1% became CEOs.

Close contact

Khosla's new chief of staff will work directly with him to evaluate investment opportunities, meet founders, research emerging technologies, and support portfolio companies, according to the job posting. As the person earns Khosla's trust, they'll also lead conversations on his behalf and help determine which opportunities to pursue.

"It will suit someone who wants significant responsibility and is comfortable with ambiguity," the ad says.

Compensation isn't listed. The posting says the position comes with a three-year commitment and long hours. The successful candidate must work in person in Menlo Park, California, generally from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m., and be available nights and weekends when needed.

The potential payoff? Previous chiefs of staff have gone on to start companies, launch investment firms, and take leadership roles at Khosla Ventures, according to the listing.

Applicants shouldn't, however, count on becoming a VC. The posting says the job is "not a dedicated investing seat or a guaranteed path to one."

• Our friendship developed during years when our lives looked very similar.
• When I took a divergent path, and she didn't understand, I thought I would lose her.
• The challenge of our differences brought us to a place of more honesty, deepening our connection.

When I told my best friend I was quitting my Wall Street legal career to spend a year camping and exploring the American West, she looked at me aghast and said, "You're joking, right?"

Her response wasn't surprising. I hadn't exactly been honest with her, or myself, about how much I longed for a very different life than the one I was living.

At the time, we were 34 years old, and during the prior 16 years of friendship, our lives had run parallel tracks, studying business in college, then pursuing demanding careers in East Coast cities. While we'd seen each other through heartbreaks and upheavals, this was more than that. This was a significant detour, and as she looked at me, her face flush with confusion, I wasn't sure the detour was something our friendship would survive.

For years, our lives aligned

Erin and I met freshman year in college as scholarship runners on a highly competitive Division I Track Team. While our four years there weren't exactly conducive to honesty or vulnerability, it bonded us in a deep way.

After graduation, we shifted our attention and drive toward corporate careers, supporting each other in these often-stressful pursuits. With our finances closely aligned, we traveled, dined, and indulged at the spa together. More than that, during those years, Erin became my anchor. She's the one I called in the middle of the night when the man I thought I was going to marry walked out, and the one who made me laugh harder than anyone else, especially amid life's disappointments.

Yet, by our early 30s, we'd only ever let ourselves be so vulnerable with each other. While I often shared my frustrations with the strain of my career, I never talked about alternatives, especially one as drastic as quitting to camp and live out of a used car.

I worried that taking a different path would end our friendship

When I decided to quit and plunge toward a very different life, Erin wasn't the only person who questioned this choice, but she was the most important. Plus, now living off my savings, I could no longer afford many activities at the center of our friendship.

When Erin came to help pack up my apartment, she continued to express skepticism about my plan to live for a while without a plan. Thinking about the infinity symbol when we said goodbye, I wasn't sure we'd ever meet back at the center.

To my surprise, she showed up for me in unexpected ways

During the early days of my trip, Erin began asking for updates on how it was going, and I began sharing details. The first night I camped alone, I sent her a photo of my tent overlooking the Colorado River and confessed how scared I was, because despite my plans to spend a year camping, I'd never actually camped by myself before that night. She responded with the same enthusiasm and encouragement that had buoyed me for years.

These conversations continued over the months that followed. When poor planning on a trail run landed me in a stranger's car for the night, she was the one I called to recount the tale and laugh over my mistakes. And on her birthday, I sent her a celebratory photograph from a 14,000-foot peak. It wasn't that she still had questions about what, exactly, I was doing with my life; it was that, at some point, she let go of her hesitations and began trying to understand my motivations.

This culminated with her request to join me for a backpacking trip — something she'd never done. We spent two nights in Arizona's Superstition Mountains, where my ease in the wilderness clashed with her tentativeness. And though we had fun, when she questioned whether I understood how to read a map as we searched for a water source, I was sure I'd never do something like that with her again.

Of course, I did, many times over, because through the friction, this truth surfaced: We'd always been very different people, and now, we were just living in those differences. The challenge of that, and her willingness to embrace it, brought us closer than ever.

Over the years, as I became more honest about who I was, she, too, became more honest about who she was. A decade later, our lives still look very different, and still, Erin is my anchor.

• Questions about now-former press secretary Katie Zacharia's legal credentials put résumé claims in the spotlight.
• Recruiters share how they've caught candidates inventing jobs, faking degrees, or exaggerating their past.
• Nearly 4 out of 10 Americans admit to putting inaccurate information on their résumés, a survey found.

For corporate recruiters like Martha Heller, asking questions about a job candidate's credentials — like the kind that swirled around now-former White House press secretary Katie Zacharia this week — is par for the course.

When a background check failed to verify an executive candidate's college degree a few years ago, Heller inquired about the discrepancy. The candidate, who was being considered for a job at a California insurance company, claimed a flood at his school had destroyed the records from the year he graduated. Skeptical, Heller called the college and learned that no such event had occurred.

"It was like detective work," she said, adding that the problem wasn't whether the candidate had a college degree. It was that he misrepresented his education and then doubled down when questioned, she said.

White House controversy

Zacharia's self-described legal career has been the subject of intense scrutiny in recent days following her appointment as White House press secretary. When asked by a reporter what state she passed the bar exam in, she responded, "When I moved to China."

Business Insider reviewed records for all 50 states and the District of Columbia and found no evidence that Zacharia had been admitted to any state bar in the US after she graduated with a law degree from Pepperdine University in 2011.

Zacharia later defended calling herself a lawyer, saying that after failing the bar exam the first time, she did not take it a second time. On Friday, a White House official confirmed that she is "transitioning out" of the role.

Vetting résumés

One of a recruiter's jobs is to vet a candidate's background. Research suggests it's not uncommon for candidates to exaggerate their credentials.

Some 37% of Americans said they've put inaccurate information on their résumés, according to a June report from Novorésumé, an online résumé-building service. Nearly 7% said they'd claimed a degree, certification, or other credential they didn't possess, while 6.1% said they'd listed a job that didn't exist or was substantially fabricated. The findings are based on a May survey of 2,000 US adults.

Brian Fink, a managing partner at tech recruiting firm The ReWork Group, can relate. Last year, a candidate for a senior marketing job at a cybersecurity company was on the verge of being hired when a background check failed to confirm that he'd worked for a company listed as a past employer on his résumé and LinkedIn profile.

Fink said he gave the candidate an opportunity to provide evidence supporting his claim, but the man refused.

"I had no choice but to rescind the offer," said Fink. "If you're willing to lie about your education, what else are you willing to lie about?"

Background checks

Recruiters typically wait until a job candidate is a finalist to conduct a background check because the task is time-consuming and costly. They also tend to hold off contacting references early on to avoid tipping off the person's current employer that they're job hunting. Early in the process, though, some recruiters will look for potential red flags by probing inconsistencies or gaps in candidates' work histories.

Doug Johnson, CEO of executive search firm Valor Partners, said he asks candidates at the end of an interview if there's anything embarrassing or potentially damaging in their past that might come up during a background or reference check. He tells them that disclosing it now gives them a chance to address the issue with a prospective employer, while discovering it later could cost them the job.

Most candidates say there's nothing to be concerned about, said Johnson. But some subsequently fall off the radar, and others suddenly report receiving a raise or finding a better opportunity elsewhere.

"It worries people who have a conscience," he said.

Update: October 16, 2026 — This article has been updated to reflect Friday's news that Zacharia is out of the role.

• I spent my 20s believing that working hard and making money were the keys to independence.
• I realized I was working so much that I had no time or energy to enjoy the life I was building.
• Years later, being an ambitious woman looks different to me. I work less and have time for myself.

I thought making a lot of money and working hard would make me happy.

In my early 20s, I got great grades and finished my undergrad in three years. By my mid-20s, I had finished my graduate degree in law while frequently working 70-hour weeks.

I leaned into the idea of being a girlboss, often working weekends or through my lunch, and focusing on making lots of money. It was a habit I saw modeled by my parents. It worked for them, and I thought it would work for me, until it didn't.

I thought hard work was the point

At 26, I worked long days at my home desk after making "hard worker" and "responsible'"my identity for years. I thought this was what an independent woman was: someone who worked constantly and optimized all of her time.

Sure, I was saving lots of money and networking, but I was often too tired on my day off to do anything. I often chose to work on Saturdays and didn't even have time to spend my hard-earned money.

Two things made me realize this wasn't a sustainable lifestyle: I once told a friend I couldn't take a 15-minute lunch break to call her, and another time I struggled to lift my full duffle bag for an upcoming trip after not working out for months.

Something had to give.

I didn't want to just recover from burnout

I was clearly burned out. I could have taken some time off to recover and come back, but then the cycle would have continued.

It helped that I spent my early 20s in Cameroon and Costa Rica, two places where work-life balance looks a lot different than it does in the US, and people live with their parents much longer. Looking back on those years when I was truly happy helped me to question what I was focusing on in my life.

I came to a new conclusion. I didn't want to simply recover after burning out. I wanted to reject the premise that burnout was the price of being an ambitious woman.

I stopped hustling toward anything

In 2022, as the COVID restrictions were lifted more and a relationship I had been in ended, I decided to travel while working a few hours per week. As a then single, childfree woman, no longer heading towards a career, I wondered what I'd replace these traditional markers of success with. The answer turned out to be nothing.

I stopped trying to hustle toward something. No job, boss, passion, or person was going to truly reward me for committing to 70-hour weeks. Nothing was worth putting off a breakfast date with myself or an unplanned walk in the park, or that 15-minute phone call I told my friend I couldn't take.

I decided to opt out of the competitive nature of the working world and instead focus on optimizing myself.

5 years later, my life looks different

Five years later, I have a life my 26-year-old self would barely recognize. I work substantially less, have built a career around writing and research for companies with values I admire, and have spent the past several years living and traveling in different countries.

I don't own a car or a home, and I'm not chasing a traditional career ladder. Instead of constantly asking what I should accomplish next, I have far more time for cooking, relationships, travel, and simply being alive.

One thing I did keep from that previous era of my life was my deep conviction that I, and all women, need to be financially independent. I have stopped suggesting that my friends work through their lunch break; instead, we talk about ethical investing and the need to always have one's own bank account.

Independence turned out to mean something else for me

The surprising part is that opting out didn't ruin my career, and I didn't feel the need to replace work with anything else. I don't think chasing a job title, a salary, or a full calendar would have made me feel secure.

I think I would have constantly felt the need to prove myself, which sounds exhausting to me now. Instead, I have the independence I sought when I was younger. It just took the form of letting go of the idea that I have to constantly prove my worth to myself.

• "The world of generalists is long gone," said IBM's chief talent, leadership, and culture officer.
• Aparna Nair said IBM's clients aren't expecting general advice; they're looking for deep expertise.
• She said even if workers wear many hats, they still need extensive knowledge about their specialty.

It's a hotly debated question: Is it better to be an expert or a generalist in the AI era?

For Aparna Nair, IBM's chief talent, leadership, and culture officer, there's no debate. She said she doesn't think generalists alone "will cut it" in the workforce in the AI era.

"The world of generalists is long gone," Nair said.

Nair said that generalists may be able to rely on AI to learn a lot, but at IBM, for example, the company's clients aren't expecting general advice from its workforce. IBM is hired for its deep technological expertise, she said.

Nair said the same is true for entry-level hires. IBM, which has committed to doubling down on junior talent, expects new workers to arrive with the skills — and domain expertise — to take on more complex work earlier in their careers, Nair said.

She said workers should identify an area that aligns with their employer's needs, become an expert in it, and "go deep."

That expectation remains even as engineering roles are starting to blur with AI. In the past, a software engineer might have spent 20% of their time coding and another 20% testing, Nair said. Now, AI can handle much of the coding work, and engineers need the critical-thinking and judgment skills to evaluate what the technology produces, Nair said.

They also have more opportunities to work across the business, such as speaking with clients and marketing teams and bringing what they learn back into the products they're building.

While today's engineers may wear many hats and work closely with different teams, they still need deep expertise in their field — and an understanding of how their work shapes the experience of clients and colleagues.

Without that added knowledge, Nair said, it would be difficult for them "to do anything meaningful."

While domain expertise may be valuable, workers should also remain flexible. Nair said that there's "nothing more powerful" than when workers combine deep expertise with the right behaviors, and also use AI to their advantage.

"That's a lethal combination," Nair said.