How Twitter’s layoffs affect us all
Quick thoughts on the product design profession in light of the layoffs at Twitter yesterday
If you work in product development or design and you feel somewhat removed from what happened at Twitter last Friday, you might want to reconsider. We don’t think of ourselves as a unified group, and we’re not. But something I’ve learned over the years is that our profession comprises a surprisingly small and interconnected collective. It’s like Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon, but instead of Kevin Bacon, it’s some interface designer, product manager, user researcher, or content strategist you worked with a month, year, or decade earlier.
In any discussion, I can usually tell who the product people are, and I can often predict what their perspective will be. We’re diverse (and could be more so), but we’re often operating from the same invisible playbook. We think of people first, and we’re usually the most outspoken about ethics, accountability, and quality.
So, for me, seeing good people — peers and, in some cases, former colleagues — get axed in such a mercurial and seemingly callous manner…well, it hit me. If there was any silver lining, it’s been the gestures of goodwill and support I’ve seen on LinkedIn and elsewhere. A silver lining that’s wonderfully heartening, but not altogether surprising given the points above.
Any of us could face what our colleagues at Twitter faced yesterday. Some of us already have, and some of us will in the future, especially if you stick around the profession long enough. Personally, I’ve been through at least three major recessions, laid off twice, had my salary and benefits cut on two other occasions, and survived (with wounds) one merger and one acquisition. Nothing I’ve experienced, however, seems quite as targeted and callous as what happened to our peers at Twitter yesterday.
It’s a good reminder that, whether we realize it or not, we’re in this together. We might be working for seemingly unrelated companies or direct competitors, but we’re connected by this overriding desire to do right by the people we serve. And by “people we serve,” I don’t mean our employers, though of course they matter, too. No, I mean the people we’re designing for. The people who count on us—whether they know it or not—to make products and services that are accessible, usable, useful, and delightful. The people who trust us to do right by them, even when our employers may not be so inclined to do right by them (or us).
I don’t know what help I can offer, but I’ll do my best, where I can. If you’re one of us, do the same, where you can.