When AI-driven layoffs hit mid-career men, the immediate reaction is often focused on what was lost. But in my research with men who successfully navigated this transition, a recurring theme was the deep desire to contribute — not just earn a paycheck. Many of the men I studied said their next role wasn’t chosen out of fear or scarcity. It was chosen because they wanted their work to matter more. Some moved into smaller organizations, advisory work, or roles where their experience and judgment were genuinely valued. The layoff, as painful as it was, became the catalyst that allowed them to stop settling and start choosing. If you’ve been displaced recently, what kind of contribution do you actually want to make in this next chapter — and what would that look like?

AI is being cited as the reason for a growing number of layoffs this year. If you’re a man in your 40s or 50s who just lost your role, it can feel especially disorienting. In my dissertation research on mid-career men who had been laid off and later found new employment, one of the most surprising themes was how many eventually described the experience as a blessing. Not because the layoff itself was easy - it wasn’t - but because it forced them into a period of reflection and growth they wouldn’t have chosen on their own. Several men shared that once they moved through the initial darkness, they found work that better aligned with their values, offered more autonomy, or allowed them to contribute in ways their previous roles never did. If you’re in this moment right now, I’m curious: What’s one way this disruption might actually be clearing space for something better than what you had before?

My in-laws gave me golf clubs as a gift in 1986. I have always been terrible at golf. Somewhere in the last thirty years, I quietly stopped playing. But I always had a picture in my mind of what I wanted retirement to look like - and golf was in it. Being comfortable enough on the course to play with anyone. Not embarrassing myself. Actually enjoying it. So I mentioned this to my financial advisor not long ago. Told him I was planning to get serious about golf once I retired. He looked at me and said something I have not stopped thinking about: in his experience working with hundreds of people through retirement, they almost never start something new after they stop working. They do more of what they were already doing. The people who have rich, full retirements are the ones who built the life before they got there. Then he said two things that were hard to argue with. First, that I could afford lessons now. Second, that I should start now - not wait for some future version of my life to show up and hand me the things I wanted. I took his advice. I purchased a package with GolfTec, which I love, and I am now actively getting better. I am excited to get on a real course soon. Here is what I want to say to the men in my world who are somewhere in that middle stretch - still working, maybe a few years out from whatever comes next, carrying a mental list of things you are going to do "when": your financial advisor is probably telling you to save more. Mine told me to go play golf. They were both right. The life you want in retirement does not start at retirement. It starts now. What are you waiting to begin?

When a role is reduced because AI can handle significant parts of it, the practical challenge isn’t just finding new work. It’s understanding what still requires a human. One step that appears in the research on AI-driven transitions is to spend time actually using the tools on tasks from your previous work. Not to compete with them, but to see clearly what they can and cannot do well. This often reveals where your judgment, relationships, or experience still add something that the technology doesn’t. Many people either avoid the tools entirely or assume they’re now irrelevant. Taking the time to experiment with them on familiar problems tends to produce a more accurate picture of what still belongs to you and where the real gaps are. This doesn’t replace the need for larger decisions. But it gives you better information to work with instead of operating on assumptions about what AI can and cannot replace. If this kind of shift has affected you, I’d be curious how you’re thinking about what still requires a person.

Early retirement removes the built-in structure that work once provided. For some men, the lack of external demands leads to a slow drift that’s harder to notice than expected. Research on retirement adjustment suggests that men who do better often replace that lost structure with something deliberate rather than waiting for new routines to form on their own. One practical step is to choose one recurring activity — whether it’s exercise, a volunteer commitment, a class, or even a standing weekly conversation — and treat it as a fixed appointment for at least the first several months. The point isn’t to stay busy. It’s to give the week a shape so that time doesn’t simply dissolve. Without some form of self-created structure, it’s easy to look back after six or twelve months and realize very little has taken root. This doesn’t need to be permanent. It’s a way to create enough stability to figure out what actually fits. If you’re in this stage, I’d be interested in what kind of structure has made a difference for you.

Most men I talk to in this season describe the same thing. They're not panicking. They're not falling apart. They're just... unclear. Unclear about what they actually want next. Unclear about whether what they've built still applies. Unclear about how to think about the next chapter without just chasing the last one. That's not weakness. That's a completely normal response to a major life transition. I built a short scorecard for this exact moment. It takes about 5 minutes. It's based on the research I did for my PhD on resilience in men facing exactly this kind of transition. It won't tell you what to do. But it will give you a clearer picture of where you actually stand, and where the real work is. If you're in this season and want a little more clarity, it's at flourishinmidlife.com. No pitch. Just a useful tool for a real moment.

AI was cited as the leading reason for job cuts in May 2026. In the first five months of this year alone, companies announced over 87,000 AI-attributed layoffs. That's already 60% more than all of 2025 combined. Here's what the data actually tells us though. BCG research shows that 50-55% of US jobs will be reshaped by AI over the next 2-3 years. Reshaped. Not eliminated. The World Economic Forum projects 92 million jobs displaced globally by 2030, offset by 170 million new roles created. The net result is positive. But that doesn't make the transition painless for the person sitting in it right now. What the data doesn't capture is the human experience of being told your role no longer exists. The disorientation. The identity questions. The very real gap between "this will work out in the aggregate" and "what do I do on Monday morning." I've spent years studying how people navigate exactly this kind of transition, and I've lived through several versions of it myself. The men who navigate it well don't wait for certainty. They get clear on who they are outside of the job title, and they make a deliberate decision about what comes next. AI didn't end your story. It just interrupted it. What's the hardest part of this transition for you right now?

The day the structure disappeared, I didn't know what to do with myself. Not because I was lazy. Not because I lacked ambition. Because for decades, my identity had been wrapped up in what I did, who needed me, and what was on my calendar. When that disappeared, I didn't lose a job. I lost a sense of self. I've been through this more than once. Divorce. Business survival. Losing Kim. Each time, the same thing happened first: the structure collapsed before I knew what came next. Here's what I've learned, both from living it and from researching it for my PhD: That gap — the space between what ended and what's next — isn't a problem to solve as fast as possible. It's actually the most important work you'll do. The men who come out on the other side with clarity and purpose aren't the ones who moved fastest. They're the ones who used that gap intentionally. If you're in that gap right now — whether a layoff hit you or retirement arrived sooner than expected — you're not behind. You're at the beginning of something. What does "using it intentionally" look like for you right now?

I keep coming back to something that showed up in almost every interview I did. The men who had the hardest time after a major transition were the ones who tried to handle it by themselves. Not because they were weak or stubborn. Because that’s what a lot of us were taught — stay strong, don’t complain, figure it out on your own. One man didn’t tell his wife how bad it really was for almost four months. Another said the only reason he finally opened up was because his son looked at him and asked if he was okay. I’ve done the same thing. There were seasons after my divorce and after losing Kim where I kept most of it to myself because I didn’t want to be the guy who couldn’t handle it. The research is pretty clear on this though. Isolation during hard seasons doesn’t make you stronger. It just makes the recovery slower. If you’re trying to white-knuckle this by yourself right now, I’m not saying you have to tell the world. But letting even one person see what’s really going on might be more important than you think.

One of the most surprising things that came out of my interviews with men who had been laid off was this: They didn’t miss the paycheck as much as they missed feeling like their work mattered to something bigger than themselves. I went into the research expecting to hear a lot about income and security. What I heard instead was men saying some version of, “I didn’t realize how much I needed to feel like I was contributing to something that actually counted.” That hit me hard because I’ve felt it too. After I left the corporate world, and again after Kim died, the thing that took the longest to come back wasn’t confidence or direction. It was the sense that what I was doing actually meant something outside of my own head. If the work you’re doing right now feels flat, it might not be a motivation problem. It might be that the old version of success doesn’t fit who you’re becoming.

I’ve been thinking about something that came up again and again in my research. When men talked about losing a role, they didn’t mostly talk about the money. They talked about losing who they thought they were. One guy told me he still introduced himself by his old title for months after he was gone. Another kept his old business cards in his wallet because throwing them out felt like admitting something he wasn’t ready to admit. I get it. I did something similar when I left corporate. For a long time I still thought of myself as “the guy who used to run that.” It took longer than I expected to stop seeing myself through that old lens. If you’re in that weird middle place right now where the job is gone but your sense of self hasn’t caught up, I just want to say — that’s normal. It doesn’t mean you’re stuck. It means the chapter actually ended and you haven’t written the next one yet. I help men going through this exact situation. If I can help you, please reach out.

The numbers came out this week. 97,000 job cuts were announced in May alone. Tech led the way again. Wix. Intuit. GitLab. Uber. Amdocs. The list keeps growing. A lot of these cuts are being framed as “AI-driven efficiency.” That’s the new language. If you’re in the middle of this right now, here’s what I want you to hear: This isn’t just a numbers game. It’s your life, your identity, and your sense of stability getting rearranged without your permission. I’ve lived through versions of this. The shock. The self-doubt. The 3 a.m. questions about whether you’re still relevant. Here’s what I’ve learned: You don’t have to figure everything out in the first 30 days. You don’t have to have a perfect five-year plan. You do have to be honest about where you actually are. That’s the starting point. Not the polished version you show everyone else. The real one. If you’re navigating this season, I’d love to hear how you’re holding up. Not the surface answer. The real one.

The World Economic Forum warned several years ago that AI would displace or change 85 million jobs. We are now living in the middle of that shift. Many people in their fifties and sixties are watching their industry change and wondering if their own chapter is about to end. If you’re feeling the uncertainty and the quiet fear that comes with it, you’re not alone. That’s exactly why I created a short readiness assessment. It takes just a few minutes and shows you where you stand as you think about what’s next. If you’re curious, comment the word READY below and I’ll send you the link. What’s one thing you’re feeling as you watch these changes unfold? I read every comment.

Twenty years coaching senior leaders has taught me one thing about midlife transition. The work that matters most is rarely the work on the to-do list. It's the inner work happening underneath, the kind that decides whether your next chapter has real meaning or just a new title.

Five things I rarely hear executives in transition give themselves permission to say: 1. I'm not sure what I want next. 2. The thing I'm good at isn't the thing I love. 3. The money was good and it still wasn't enough. 4. I'm tired in a way sleep doesn't fix. 5. I think I need help thinking this through. If any of these landed, you're in good company.

The midlife "crisis" framing is one of the worst things modern psychology gave us. Most of the senior leaders I work with aren't in crisis. They're in transition. There is a meaningful difference. Crisis says something is broken. Transition says something is changing.

The men I coach who navigate transition best aren't the ones who move fastest. They're the ones willing to sit with the question of what they actually want before answering it.

Most executives in transition don't need another resume rewrite. They need someone to ask better questions about what comes next.

Here's a podcast on how Kim and I met, married, and live our lives. #reallifemarriage #lovingonrelationships shows.acast.com/real-life-ma…