If you’re in the middle of a career transition right now and wondering whether you did something wrong, you didn’t. The ground moved. The advice that worked for product people for 20 years has been replaced by something close to the opposite of itself, and most people are still playing by the old rules without realizing the rules changed.

Here are five of the questions coming into Nikhyl.AI right now, representative of a pattern I’m seeing across hundreds of conversations. Different situations. Same underlying question: who am I, now that the job I knew is changing?

• I just got laid off and I don’t know who I am without this job. A 12-year vet considering whether to change roles or change careers entirely.

• I took a step down after a layoff and I’m miserable. A senior leader now doing junior work, stuck staying for the paycheck.

• I feel stuck and left behind in the AI era. An IC5 at a FAANG with visa constraints, spending his days on alignment instead of building.

• I was laid off in 2023 and I still can’t figure out what I want. A longtime product leader with a 20-year track record at top companies, financially secure, drawn to coaching but unsure if it’s a real career.

• 18 years in and I’m starting over at 45. A veteran with a decade in sales and a decade in PM, asking if he deferred reinvention for too long.

A year ago, the typical question I received was how do I get promoted? Now it’s am I still who I thought I was? The language has moved from advancement to reinvention. And underneath most of these notes sits a quieter, harder question:

I covered the big picture on Lenny’s podcast recently — our industry is reinventing itself, and every product person has to cross the threshold. This week I want to go one level deeper. What does reinvention actually look like for the person in the middle of it? And how do you tell the blockers that are real and outside your control from the ones that are real but within it?

Here’s what’s actually changed. The advice I would have given to each of these people 18 months ago is not refined or updated. It’s reversed. For 20 years the playbook for successful product people was: start hands-on, prove you can build, then move up the ladder to help other people build. Build the factory, not the car. That advice was correct for the world we were in. It’s the opposite of correct now. The people most in demand today are the opinionated, hands-on, high-agency builders who stayed close to the craft. The PMs who were promoted up and away from building, who made their name as facilitators, information movers, stakeholder aligners, are discovering that the skill they built their career on is exactly what AI is starting to do better.

That shift is real, and it’s outside your control. But a lot of what else people describe as insurmountable blockers — I’m too old for this. I don’t have the right background. My resume has gaps. The window closed. — are real blockers within your control. The five takeaways below sort out which is which. The podcast works through each question in depth if you want the full conversations.

Don’t Wait for the Dust to Settle.

The question most people in transition are actually wrestling with isn’t did I defer too long? It’s something quieter and more reasonable: reinvention is exhausting, shouldn’t I just wait for the dust to settle? Things are changing so fast, it feels smarter to ride it out and pick back up when the ground stops shifting.

That instinct is a trap. By the time things stabilize, the hill will be too steep. The people waiting for clarity will find the market has moved without them, and the catch-up cost compounds every quarter they sit on the side. And here’s the deeper point: if you had reinvented two, three, five years ago, it wouldn’t have saved you. You’d be reinventing again right now anyway. Reinvention isn’t a deadline you missed. It’s the new baseline, required for everyone — including the people who already did it once.

The people feeling this most acutely aren’t the ones who neglected their careers. They’re the ones who played the previous rules perfectly: built the brand, earned the promotions, got the big-company logos. This is the Shadows of Superpowers pattern I’ve written about before — the A-students of the old game are often the most lost in the new one, precisely because the old game worked so well for them. The skills that made them successful are the same ones insulating them from recognizing that the game changed.

The one cohort this hits lightest: the early-career, AI-first generation. Breaking into product fresh out of school remains hard — that hasn’t changed. But once they do, they have much less to unwind. They started hands-on, fluent in the tools, without a decade of habits built around the old playbook. For everyone further along, the lesson isn’t to envy them. It’s to borrow the posture: the less attached you are to the way product used to work, the easier this is.

Builder vs. Manager — Who Wins, Who Doesn’t, and How to Get There

The core diagnostic question anyone reassessing their career right now should ask: am I a builder, or am I a manager? And the harder follow-up: if I’m on the wrong side of that line, what do I do about it?

The executive builder wins. Hands-on builders in general are doing well. Open PM roles are at a multi-year high, comp is up, and good companies are hiring hands-on product people everywhere. But the ones truly crushing it right now aren’t just hands-on. They combine the build muscle with executive presence — the ability to shape direction, communicate clearly to CEOs, and represent the product without needing layers of translation. A builder who stays small-scale still gets good roles at good companies, which is far from nothing. But a builder who can also operate at the exec table is in the best market of their career, full stop.

The person at risk is the pure manager. Not the person with a manager title. The person whose primary skill and sole interest is management: coordination, stakeholder alignment, translating between functions, running the process. That skill is shrinking fast because the coordination tax it used to pay is exactly what AI is eliminating. The role that was senior for coordination work isn’t senior anymore — it’s being absorbed. That’s structural, not cyclical.

On ageism. This comes up constantly in these conversations, and it deserves care. Suggesting ageism doesn’t exist in tech would be naive and maybe insulting. Ageism has always been a real concern in our industry, precisely because change gets harder as we get older — and tech shifts faster than almost any other field. But the question underneath it isn’t really about age. It’s about ability and interest in reinvention. I know plenty of senior leaders reliving their early-career intensity, diving into the new tools, genuinely enjoying the rebuild. Those folks are leveraging their age like fine wine — the experience compounds with the current toolset. But if you’re later in your career and the idea of climbing another hill is genuinely exhausting, you face a real crossroads. Not because the industry has rejected you, but because the work now requires an appetite you may no longer want to hold.

The path to the right side of the build/manage split isn’t abstract. Build inside your current company if you can. If your company won’t let you, build on the side and make sure colleagues know it. Proof of building is the currency that keeps you off a layoff list. The story of “I was a great builder, they just never gave me the chance” is not a story that protects you.

Mourn the Old Job. Then Stop.

One of the questions we worked through came from a senior product leader who was running multiple product lines at an industry-leading startup. The company contracted. He was laid off. In a brutal market, he accepted a senior PM role on a single data platform team at a much smaller company, and he wrote in feeling like a victim — miserable, identity gone, doing work “a junior PM could handle,” staying only for the paycheck.

That feeling is real, and the grief is earned. The job he was good at is gone. Not changing. Not evolving. Gone. For him, and for everyone reading this who’s taken a step backward, it’s okay to mourn that. You should.

What you can’t do is stay there. The choice, said plainly: upgrade and reinvent, or long for the past. Both are valid. Just know which one you’re choosing. The hardest version of this is the person who chooses the past without realizing they’re choosing it, then blames the market when the compounding gap catches up to them.

One distinction, because it keeps people on the sidelines for years: “I can’t get a job” and “I can’t get the job I used to have” are very different statements. The first is rarely true. The second is often unavoidable right now. Confusing the two is its own trap.

Your “Bugs” Are Your Features

One of the questions we worked through came from a veteran with a decade in enterprise sales, then another decade in PM at mid-market B2B SaaS — no technical background, no CS degree, title still Senior PM after 18 years. His framing: am I screwed? By the old rules, close to yes. The non-technical PM was a shrinking category. The career-switcher without credentials was easy to pass over. The person without a brand-name logo struggled to get a second interview.

But what if those rules have flipped?

The single most valuable combination I’m seeing emerge is function depth plus product mindset plus AI fluency — call it the sales builder, the HR builder, the finance builder, the ops builder. Product people who came in with deep expertise in another function, now equipped with modern tools, are uniquely positioned to rebuild that function from the inside. And rebuilding legacy functions is one of the hottest conversations happening in companies right now. Executives are actively looking for the product-minded person inside sales, HR, finance, or support who can systematically obsolete the manual parts of the work and reshape how the function operates. There are very few people with that combination, and it’s paying accordingly.

The limiter used to be that these function-experts couldn’t ship. AI has removed the limiter. What remains is exactly what’s scarce: deep understanding of a function, strong opinions about how it should work, and the ability to put those opinions into production.

If you spent ten years in sales before moving to product, that’s not a gap in your resume. It’s a wedge almost no one else has. If you came from HR or finance or a domain like healthcare or logistics, the question isn’t whether you can compete with “real” product people. It’s whether you can recognize that your background is suddenly an asset worth leading with.

The frame to carry: turn your bugs into features. The things you used to apologize for are the things that now set you apart.

Stop Planning. Start Moving.

One of the questions we worked through came from a longtime product leader, 20-plus years at top companies like Amazon, financially secure, laid off in 2023, and still searching more than a year later. He’s become proficient with AI coding tools. He’s genuinely good at what he does. And he’s stuck — drawn to coaching and mentoring but convinced that’s “giving up on a real career.” He’s the person I worry about most. Not because his situation is the worst, but because the pattern of overthinking that kept him out of a role this long is the one I see hurting the most people.

When everything is changing and the right long-term path is ambiguous, people tend to plan more. They debate coaching versus consulting versus founding versus a traditional role. They read, they network, they reflect, they wait for clarity. Six months go by. Then twelve. The market moves faster than the deliberation, and each month away makes re-entry harder.

The better move, counterintuitively, is to stop planning and start moving. Take a six-to-twelve-month role, even one that’s slightly beneath you, even one where you’re not sure it’s the right long-term fit. Get current. See how product is actually being built right now. Let the work tell you what you want next. Your current point of view is informed by a market that doesn’t exist anymore.

I’ve done this myself. After a startup didn’t go the way I wanted, I took a consulting role with a friend that was slightly outside my comfort zone. I wasn’t the best person for the job. But being in motion — adding value, using my skills, seeing the current way of working — built the conviction about what I wanted next that I could never have gotten from reading and reflecting.

One door I’d close quickly for most people in his position: coaching. Unless you’re in the top 1% of your field with an extraordinary skill that LLMs genuinely can’t replicate, coaching is getting cheaper and faster and better at the same time. The idea of building a sustainable full-time career around it is romantic, and for most, it’s going to be a long and disappointing road. Take the job. Get back in the game. Decide later.

The Playbook

Five things connect the five questions:

• Don’t wait for the dust to settle. The instinct to ride this out is a trap — the hill only gets steeper. Reinvention is the new baseline, required for everyone, including people who already did it once.

• Build, with executive presence. Hands-on is the floor. The people crushing it combine the build muscle with the ability to shape direction and operate at the exec table.

• Mourn the old role, then move. The job you were senior in is gone. Choose upgrade over nostalgia, consciously.

• Function depth + product mindset + AI = a rare wedge. PMs who came from sales, HR, finance, or a domain are uniquely positioned to rebuild those functions. Lead with the background, don’t apologize for it.

• Stop planning. Start moving. Take the bridge role. Let current work teach you what you want next.

And one line worth carrying out of this: in this moment, you get to be the founder of your own career. That’s not a consolation prize. It’s the opportunity.

Have your own career question? Get personalized guidance at Nikhyl.AI — it’s where the questions keep coming, and where I’ll keep sharing what I’m learning.