Why I Left Google
Building a Life, Not Just Software
For the last ten years, my professional life became an exercise in optimization. As a Software Engineer at Google, my days, my weeks, my entire career, revolved around a single, powerful verb: to build. We built some of the most complex, centralized systems on the planet. We built machines for a world of connections, architected for hyper-efficiency, unparalleled scale, and unwavering predictability.
On paper, it was a dream career. I was fortunate to work alongside some of the brightest minds on fascinating technical challenges. I got the promotions, eventually earning the title of Senior Staff Software Engineer. I learned to be a reliable cog in one of the most magnificent machines ever built.
But a few years ago, an unsettling thought started to creep in, quiet as a syntax error in a million lines of code, but persistent. I realized that the things truly expanding my mind—the TED Talks that sparked new curiosities, the challenging books that rewired my thinking, the deep, meandering conversations with friends about the future—were all happening entirely outside the framework of my formal career path.
My skills were honed for solving problems within a beautifully defined system. But was I becoming a more well-rounded, creative, and insightful person?
The answer wasn’t always yes.
This question hits differently now that I think about the world my daughter will inherit. The “good employee” skills that I spent a decade mastering are precisely the ones AI will automate into obsolescence. Efficiency, execution, pattern recognition... these are rapidly becoming commodities.
What isn’t a commodity?
Curiosity. Empathy. The courage to start from a blank page. The wisdom to know when to throw out the map. The uniquely human ability to connect disparate ideas and ask, “what if?”
This realization didn’t come overnight. It was a slow-building dissonance, a growing gap between the person my resume said I was, and the person I wanted to become. The software I was helping to build was approaching perfection, but my own internal operating system was signaling the need for a fundamental reboot.
Fortunately, a voluntary exit program at Google provided the perfect, unexpected off-ramp—a chance to make a leap with a safety net. It was an opportunity to close one chapter and, for the first time in my adult life, to stare at a truly blank page.
So, what’s next? A new chapter focused on freedom, curiosity, and craft.
This publication, “The Signal,” is the first transmission from that new chapter.
To be clear, my goal isn’t to build the next big startup. My goal is to build a life where I can once again explore ideas that genuinely excite me, without the pressure of a corporate roadmap. It’s about returning to the pure joy of creation that first led me to software as a teenager—building fun, weird, and interesting things simply because the process itself is the reward.
This is a space where I will share that journey, in public. It’s where I will deconstruct the technology shaping our future, not as an employee, but as an independent thinker. My aim here is to try and find the signal in the noise, to explore the deeper, “so what?” behind the headlines, and to connect the dots between the code we write and the lives we lead.
I believe we’ve spent a century building a world that rewards people for building the perfect software. It feels like we’re on the cusp of a new era—one that will reward people for building a meaningful life. The skills for that journey look profoundly different.
It’s a shift from being a cog in the machine to becoming the architect of your own machine.
This is my story, but I suspect it’s a quiet feeling shared by many. It’s the desire to reconnect with the curiosity that first sparked our careers, and to find a more intentional way to blend our work with a well-lived life.
This is my first signal. I hope it finds you.
Now, I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one thing you would do if you had more time and freedom? What’s the “blank page” you’ve been dreaming of?
Join the public conversation by leaving a comment, or share your thoughts privately by replying directly to this email. I read and respond to every one.
For those who are more active on other platforms, you can also find me on LinkedIn or X.
I left a leadership position in a fast growing startup where I gave 110% of myself everyday for 7 yrs. All my waking hours was consumed by the mission. Spent a 1 yr sabbatical - and just basically rested. It took that long of a time for my nervous system to calm down and for my head to clear.
Hopefully, AI will create enough wealth in the economy that all of us don't need to work a corporate job to make a living.
The safety net of working for someone else definitely helps to take that leap. I wouldn't jump without it. But maybe my kids have that safety net of a place to live and food to eat thanks to AI, instead of having to work for N years of their lives to have that opportunity