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entry "throw away, no skill" positions for programming are also kinda going away, or at least get collapsed to a small fraction of positions

to be fair this positions never made that much sense as they tend to cause more trouble then they are helping on the long run, but they exist anyway

and companies should know better then throwing away "junior, not yet skilled, but learning" positions (but then many small startups also are not used to/have the resources to teach juniors, which is a huge issue in the industry IMHO)

but I imagine for many of the huge "we mainly hire from universities"/FANG companies it will turn into a "we need only senior engineers and hire juniors only to grow our own senior engineers", this means the moment to you growth takes too long/stagnates by whatever _arbitrary_ metric you get kicked out fast. And like with their hiring process they have the resources, scale, and number of people who want to work for them to be able to really use some arbitrary imperfect effective discriminatory metrics.

Another aspect is that a lot of the day to day work of software engineering is really dump simple churn, and AI has the potential to massively cut down the time a developer needs to do that, so less developers needed especially in mid to low skill positions.

Now the only luck devs have is that there is basically always more work which was cut due to time pressure but often isn't even supper low priority, so getting things done faster might luckily not map one to one to less jobs being available.



>> ..this means the moment your growth takes too long/stagnates by whatever _arbitrary_ metric:

you get HR's glossy `Exit Packet' with a cover of a pristine chartered white catamaran on the translucent aquamarine Carribbean in a palm treed cove, afloat with bikini babes lounging on deck, five minutes to fill your cardboard box, and manhandled by two security wide-shouldered bulls squeezing your arms to your sides gripped under your forearms, marching you down the aisle with rubber-knecking wide-eyed heads watching you repeatedly slip, fall forward, the experienced bulls lowering your arms to regain your shoes' purchase with the carpet, hurriedly packing you into the elevator with silent ignominious stares and hushed whispers of those packed in around you, then past hot Tanya at Reception in front of every Tom, Dick, Irene, and Harry, out the main revolving glass door entrance, into the overcast dishwater grey and miserable wind blown wet in truth is Seattle, to the sidewalk, left at the curb -furthest from proper and successful glitterati as possible.

All double-time haste, signalling to everyone get this despicable loser/criminal POS off the property, fast.

Its over, you're done. Sooner than you thought possible, you're freezing in a tent wasting days into months: tailing-downward foodbank boxes, the TIDE(tm) pee-bottle, those el-cheapo dirty gloves with the tips cut off, dirty layered thriftstore fleeces, its under filthy roaring I-5 for you pal, and your ilk of dangerous insane addict-crazed zombies screaming outside your hideous blue-tarped tent, and where's the knife.

The answer to the fundamental question of your entire existence and net worth has reduced to simply ask: "How do I best empty my bowels"?

ICEstapo hunter/killers gunning for you, to flush you offshore unseen and forgotten forever. You better run, you better run your ass off. Why didn't you study harder all those wasted years?!

Welcome to Sam Altman's Club.




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