Tech started to feel worse when everything became proof of value.
I think one of the worst things that happened to working in tech is that it stopped being enough to simply enjoy building things.
Now everything feels like proof.
Proof that you are skilled enough.
Proof that you are keeping up.
Proof that you understand AI.
Proof that you are still employable.
Proof that you deserve your place.
That pressure changes your relationship with computers.
For a lot of us, this did not start as some calculated career move. We liked messing with things. We liked figuring out why something was broken. We liked the feeling of finally understanding a system that made no sense a few hours earlier.
That was the fun of it.
It was never just about shipping fast or being productive all the time. A lot of the joy came from the process itself: trying things, failing, reading random forum posts, changing something small, breaking everything, then somehow fixing it.
But the older I get, the more it feels like that side of tech gets pushed out by performance.
You are not just expected to learn. You are expected to show that you are learning.
You are not just expected to build. You are expected to build in the right public way.
You are not just expected to adapt. You are expected to look calm and confident while adapting.
That is exhausting.
And I do not think people are burned out only because the industry moves fast. I think many of them are burned out because they can no longer relate to the thing they used to love in a normal human way. Everything is tied to status, output, career strategy, and staying relevant.
That does something to the craft.
It makes curiosity feel less innocent.
It makes side projects feel less personal.
It makes learning feel harder to enjoy.
It makes every interest feel like it has to justify itself.
I do not think people miss the past because everything was better. A lot of old tech was slow, ugly, broken, and frustrating. What people miss is how it felt to engage with computers before everything became a metric.
Before every skill had to be monetized.
Before every opinion had to be posted.
Before every new tool raised the question of whether you were already falling behind.
That is the part I keep thinking about lately.
Maybe the real loss is not that tech changed. Of course it changed. It always does.
Maybe the real loss is that many of us started to feel like we are only allowed to love this stuff if we can continuously convert that love into value.
And that is a bad way to live.
Some of the best moments in programming and computing are still the smallest ones. Understanding something difficult. Fixing a bug that bothered you for hours. Building a tiny thing that nobody else will care about. Getting that very specific satisfaction of making something work and actually knowing why it works.
That still matters.
It may not be impressive online. It may not help your personal brand. It may not even be useful in any obvious way.
But it is real.
And I think a lot of people in tech need permission to admit that this is what they are trying to protect: not just their job, but their original relationship with the work.
The part that felt interesting before it felt strategic.
The part that made computers feel like a place you could explore, not just a tool you had to use to survive.
Maybe that sounds naive. I do not know.
But I do know this: the more tech becomes a constant exercise in proving your worth, the harder it becomes to love it honestly.
And if enough people lose that, the industry will still keep moving, but it will feel emptier while it does.
