Why "Give Away Your Legos" No Longer Fully Holds in the Age of AI: Molly Graham on Grief, Fear, and What to Keep

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Overview

For about 13 years, Molly Graham has given the same career advice: as your company grows, give away your projects, teams, and responsibilities instead of clinging to them. She calls this "giving away your Legos." The advice spread well beyond fast-growing startups, and she still gets emails about it every month. In this second appearance on Lenny Rachitsky's podcast, Graham says the advice no longer applies cleanly now that people are being encouraged, or forced, to hand their Legos to AI. The conversation looks at which parts of the framework still hold, which have broken, and which Legos should now be kept. A second thread runs underneath: the grief, loneliness, and burnout that Graham and Rachitsky say they are seeing across the tech industry.

33 min read
5:56

Where the Lego metaphor came from

Graham traces the idea to her time at Google and Facebook. Google already had about 10,000 employees when she joined in 2007, but her department grew from 25 to 125 people in nine months. That was her first experience of rapid scale. She then joined Facebook at around 500 employees and 80 million users, which she notes made it smaller than MySpace at the time. When she left five years later it had about 5,500 employees and more than a billion users.

What stood out to her through that growth was how frightening scale was for the people inside it. Someone builds a thing, such as the blog, a part of the stack, or a product, and their identity forms around it. Then a manager arrives and says to hand it to someone else and move on. The instinct is to refuse: I'm good at this, I know how to do it, it's fun, and what if it's the only fun thing? Graham describes this with a kindergarten image. Someone dumps a pile of Legos in front of you, you start building, and when another child reaches for your tower you shove them away. The better response, she says, is to see that more people means you can go build something new and learn something.

She began giving this as an informal talk to her own teams, to name the feelings people were likely to have and to argue that the right move was to let go and evolve with the company. She later sent it to First Round, which published it in its First Round Review. She wrote it with the high-growth startups of 2013 in mind. The emails came from much further away, including a woman at Safeway who said it described her team exactly, and a founder in Nigeria whose team had grown from two people to four that year. Her first reaction was "I didn't write this for you." Her second was that the piece was about something bigger than hypergrowth. It was about change. That is why she thinks it became universal, and Rachitsky mentions hearing that it is among the most popular posts the First Round Review has published.

What still holds true

Graham says the advice remains relevant for anyone at a rapidly scaling company, and she is still asked to speak at them. What has changed over roughly the past two years is who contacts her: more managers and leaders dealing with change inside their companies. Before a talk she used to check a company's revenue and headcount growth to decide how to frame it. She still does, but she now says every company in the world is going through major change of some kind, so the core message of how to deal with change has become more widely applicable, not less.

Someone once asked her to reduce the article to one sentence, and she gave two. First, your main job during rapid growth and change is to make yourself irrelevant, because that is the only way to be ready for whatever comes next. Second, don't worry, it's all going to be okay. She calls her Lego talks "a form of group therapy" and "a giant hug": the chaos is real, and there is opportunity on the other side.

Several further points still hold for her. Change brings strong emotions, and much of her original purpose was to normalize them: feeling territorial or overwhelmed does not mean you are broken or that something has gone wrong, and it often means the right things are happening. Today she hears a great deal of grief and overwhelm from leaders alongside the excitement, and she says you cannot lead right now without naming that.

She also repeats a line from her talks: the future will be defined by the people who learn, not the people who know, and what you can learn by tomorrow matters more than what you know today. She says this has never been truer than with AI, where whatever people believed six months ago may no longer hold. She describes a company's growth curve as also the curve of how fast your job is changing and how fast you need to grow. Standing still feels safe but is the least safe option. In her first two years at Facebook she worked in HR and saw that year's top performer could be "underwater" less than a year later if they had not grown and evolved their team, because by then it was a different company. She thinks the same is happening with AI. The instinct to protect what we know is often well-motivated, she says, but the future will belong to people willing to learn.

When Rachitsky summarizes these points, Graham adds one more: the best response to scary change is to lean into it, even though instinct says otherwise. She acknowledges that doing so may be scarier now than it has ever been.

Rachitsky points out that her two-sentence summary no longer sounds reassuring. Telling people to make themselves irrelevant and that everything will be fine lands very differently when the successor is an AI. Graham agrees that this is the hard part to discuss today.

Grief, rowing, and steering

Rachitsky, a former engineer, says engineering stayed essentially the same job for decades and has changed completely in about two years. Engineers used to write code in an IDE; now they instruct AI to write it, wait for agents to finish, and check the results. He says he missed the flow state of coding even before this, and he hears from many engineers that they miss how the work used to be.

Graham tells a story from a talk she gave about two weeks earlier at a fast-growing tech company. An engineer who had been there a couple of years told her afterward that he no longer enjoyed his role. She first assumed it was the familiar loss of creativity as a company adds structure. Looking back, she thinks she missed the real issue and wants to talk with him again. She now believes it was grief: uncertainty about what his job is now, combined with the fact that engineering itself has changed. He kept saying he missed being hands-on. She sees engineering as one of the areas where jobs have changed most visibly.

She refers to an earlier guest from OpenAI who said the job used to be rowing and is now steering. Graham's reaction was that many people do not want to steer. They like rowing. She notes that it can be hard to tell apart "I like rowing" from "I'm afraid rowing is the only thing I'll ever be good at," but she says this is happening across many fields. She describes a product leader who told her that everyone is now supposed to be a "universal builder," and that it is lonely: some of the collaboration has gone because she works with robots all day. Graham's response was to agree that it sucks and to sit with it for a moment. "Change sucks. It also can be awesome but we don't have to be fluffy bunnies about this. We can also just say this is hard." She says a large part of what the Lego article did was simply to say that something is hard and scary and that it will be okay.

Loneliness and the reverse centaur

Rachitsky brings in his conversation with Fiona Fung, who manages the Claude Code engineering team. Asked about the downside of the new way of working, Fung described engineers who were used to teams of five or ten peers now working on fewer, smaller teams and talking to agents all day. Graham says leaders who design org structures need to account for this. Removing humans may bring productivity and efficiency, but it also produces sad humans, which does not lead to anyone's best work. She connects this to a finding in Rachitsky's survey, discussed below, that people at smaller companies and on smaller teams are much happier. Her reading is that large companies are removing management layers and pushing hard on productivity, which leaves less room for the human side and for joy when everything is optimized for cost and "robot efficiency."

Rachitsky raises Cory Doctorow's image of the centaur and the reverse centaur. A centaur is a human head controlling an animal body: AI working under human direction, which he calls a good way to live. A reverse centaur is the opposite, where the system directs the human. Rachitsky says delivery and ride-hailing drivers already live something like this, and the fear is that it spreads to knowledge work, leaving humans in a shrinking area of value while AI decides what to build and then builds it.

The fear narrative and AI-branded layoffs

For Graham, the dominant fear narrative is what most distinguishes this moment from earlier waves of change. It is hard to tell people to lean in when they doubt anything is on the other side. She describes the current message to workers this way: we have hired a new employee who is the smartest you have ever met, ten times smarter than you; pour everything you know into them, and in six months they will take your job. Nobody would willingly do that, she says.

She also argues that this does not reflect current reality. She says there is not much data showing AI is actually taking jobs, while acknowledging that Rachitsky may have more than she does. She strongly criticizes what she calls AI-branded layoffs. In her view, many are badly run companies putting an AI label on cuts to gain share-price points instead of admitting they over-hired, and they spread the belief that jobs are disappearing.

As an alternative, she cites her interview on the WorkLife podcast with journalist Manoush Zomorodi. Zomorodi has spent about 30 years in journalism, an industry whose death has been predicted the whole time. She started at the BBC, was early in audio, made a crypto-themed audio project, and hosts TED Radio Hour. From that conversation Graham took away a different question. Instead of "What would you do if you believed your job was going to disappear?", she asks: "What would you do if you believed your job was always going to exist? It was just going to look completely different every six years." Graham wishes that were how people talked about tech jobs and jobs said to be threatened by AI: the form will change, but until there is real evidence otherwise, assume the jobs reinvent themselves. Rachitsky says this matches what has happened so far, noting that his own data shows engineering demand is higher than ever. Graham thanks him for publishing it.

The survey: burnout rising, half the workforce thriving

Rachitsky shares results from his second annual survey of how tech workers feel. The share reporting burnout rose from 44% in 2025 to 55% this year. He attributes this to people being expected to do more, probably without more pay, under constant pressure to move faster than competitors.

Graham reads the numbers as partly the cost of emotion itself, since grief and uncertainty are exhausting. She also points to narrative churn. A friend at OpenAI told her that in six months the company went from "token maxing," pushing everyone to use AI everywhere, to asking whether it was making a difference given the cost. Hilary Gridley described a similar shift: six months ago the question was how to get people to use AI, and now it is how to get them to stop using it badly. Graham says this kind of whiplash, sometimes faster than six months, is tiring. So is the sense of being expected to do more for the same pay. Especially at larger companies, she says, the relationship can feel adversarial: workers understand why AI helps the bottom line but want to know why it is good for them.

Rachitsky stresses the other half of the results. About half of respondents say they are the happiest they have ever been in their careers, even while working harder than ever. Graham recalls that the happiness was concentrated among people on smaller teams or with more authority. Rachitsky confirms this and adds that the strongest correlation was with people who said AI had amplified them, meaning they had found ways to use it to do more of what excites them.

Designers were the least happy group. Rachitsky says designers tell him that everyone else is speeding up while design cannot: it needs feedback, alignment, and time to think, and it cannot simply be iterated by agents. Graham adds that "everyone's a designer now." She compares it to education, where everyone assumes expertise because they were once a student. People now arrive with something they made in Gemini or Claude and call it a design. She says the gap between a prototype and something exceptional is large for products in general and for design in particular. Design, she says, has become very accessible "at least at okay," which is exhausting when people keep telling you how to do your job.

35:13

AI slop, accountability, and the intern model

Rachitsky cites a tweet of his that spread widely: a growing part of everyone's job is cleaning up AI slop from other people trying to do your job. Graham connects this to the "superintelligence" framing. If people treat AI as the best employee they have ever hired, they copy, paste, and send. Her own experience, and she believes most people's, is that AI frequently gets things wrong and needs the same context, onboarding, and coaching a human needs. She calls it an intern, often a "lazy intern." Nobody would forward an intern's presentation straight to their boss without editing it and making sure it reflected the dozens of earlier conversations. She says people are "shipping accountability" to AI, and good work has never happened that way.

When the sender drops accountability, it moves to the recipient, which drains organizations. She says her Glue Club community often discusses CEOs sending strategy memos clearly written by AI, which she sees as showing the whole company that it is fine to outsource thinking and strategy and to skip accountability.

She ties this to what she sees as overvaluing productivity in the past six months. Token leaderboards remind her of counting cars in the parking lot, Slack activity, or lines of code, all of which she calls known bad ways to manage people. She distinguishes productivity, meaning the ability to generate more, from efficiency, meaning whether the output moves anything forward. "We've proven we can all generate a bunch of [stuff] that other people then have to wade through," she says, but that has not been efficient. She cites an engineering report, as she recalls it, finding that AI made engineers more productive while the amount of code that had to be rewritten rose about eightfold and security incidents also went up. She suspects part of the burnout data reflects people buried in output where they cannot tell whether the sender thought about it or cared. Rachitsky mentions an "iceberg" image from his report: visible output looks better, while thinking and judgment underneath are declining. He adds that the good news is that people are becoming aware of it.

42:32

Why delegating to AI is not giving away a Lego

Graham says she was a skeptic when AI took off, since companies had been automating things for years, but she eventually came around. Her first reaction was that the Lego message had become more relevant. She used to check headcount growth because people would ask whom they were supposed to give their Legos to if the company was not hiring. Now anyone can automate parts of their job.

She then found that giving work to robots is very different from giving it to a person. A common question at her talks is how to hand off a Lego well. People expect her to recommend careful instructions and a manual. Her actual answer is to "chuck them at their face and run in the other direction." The instinct toward control, wanting the next person to build the tower exactly as you did, is what has to go. You separate mentally, trust that the tower's future belongs to them, and gain freedom and mental space in return.

With AI, she says, the oversight does not go away. It is closer to delegating to someone on your team than to transferring ownership. You still own the final product, so the "mental tax" stays with you. You can get more done, but you still carry the psychological burden of everything the robots are doing, which leaves less room for new things. She wonders whether this contributes to the burnout numbers. Rachitsky notes that her original advice was to disconnect from responsibility for the thing, and now the AI does the work while you remain responsible.

That makes everyone a manager, Graham says, whether they want to be or not. The skills of managing AI are much the same as managing people, including oversight, giving context, correcting work, and coaching, just without the feelings. Many people deliberately chose not to become managers. She says the reasonable upper limit is about 10 to 12 direct reports, that she has managed more and "it was not a good look," and that she knows of no evidence that people can now handle more. Counting robots, she worries about how much people have to hold in their heads.

Rachitsky describes his own experience running many agents on side projects. It is exciting to watch work get done, but he is pinged constantly with questions, blocks, and requests for review. He also works with a human engineer, and the contrast has made him appreciate someone who can take a rough idea and run with it. Graham compares it to managing junior versus senior employees. She says current AI resembles junior staff, which is not her favorite kind of management. You can throw a Lego at a senior engineer and walk away, but not at an intern.

Opportunity has to be believable

The second big difference, Graham says, is that her advice always rested on two assumptions: giving things away is good, and new opportunity is waiting on the other side. The narrative that jobs are vanishing, backed by AI-branded layoffs and talk of universal basic income because no one will have a job in ten years, undermines both. Nobody will enthusiastically hand their knowledge to robots under that story. She calls this one of the most important moments she has seen in nearly 20 years in tech, "the mobile phone on steroids," and says she believes many jobs and businesses will be created. For people to lean in, though, the conversation has to shift so that automating tasks they hate sounds like more time for what they love and are great at, which is what the "amplified" survey respondents describe.

Rachitsky describes attending Foo Camp, Tim O'Reilly's small invitation-only gathering, this time focused on what happens to people as AI does more of their work. It opened with O'Reilly talking to someone, Rachitsky thinks a lawyer, who was deliberately hoarding specialized knowledge so AI could not replicate it. Graham says the feeling is completely understandable. Still, while allowing that she is "an abundance person" and might regret this in six months or five years, she says everything in her experience points toward leaning in. Following Zomorodi's logic, lawyers will always exist but will look different every few years. The better question is whether you want to help design the next version of your profession or protect the past. She calls this stance agency, or entrepreneurship, while acknowledging not everyone is naturally entrepreneurial.

Asked what product managers, engineers, and founders should actually do, Graham describes a leadership cohort her team runs at companies. A head of design had essentially built a feature and wanted to ship it, but engineering was "a brick wall": designers do not ship code to production. She acknowledges there are good reasons, especially at a financial company like that one. Her broader point is that the walls between designer, engineer, and PM need to come down. Startups seem happier, she suggests, because they are not fighting how things used to work and are inventing how they could work. Leaders who stay in the fear conversation instead of the creativity conversation end up leading terrified people. She points to earlier guests: Adam Mosseri, who started as a designer, on designers now prototyping and going deeper, and Elena Verna on marketers shipping code. In journalism, she notes via Zomorodi, the job moved from a newsroom paycheck to many journalists working as entrepreneurs, for example on Substack. Every role should ask what it fundamentally is once the accumulated habits are stripped away, a question she says product management should have been asking for years.

59:40

The Legos you shouldn't give away

Rachitsky asks directly whether there are Legos people should not give away, which he calls a radical departure from her past advice. Graham agrees it is the biggest change. She is often asked whether she has ever regretted giving a Lego away. In a hypergrowth company, where opportunity keeps landing on you, her answer has always been no: give them away, even when that means trading the known for the unknown, because in every case she has seen, personally and among people she has coached, it worked out.

With AI, she now adds a caveat. Some Legos the robots "don't deserve," and some work should not be outsourced. Her hope is that AI takes over things humans should not have been doing, and she uses Waymo as an example: riding in one makes it clear that humans are bad at driving, which is essentially code and systems. Humans should hold on to the work they are uniquely suited for. Her examples:

  • Judgment. A CEO's strategy has to come from the CEO's own thinking.
  • Trust and relationships. She says these should not be handed to robots for a number of reasons.
  • Work whose standard of quality you can't define. If you cannot say what good looks like, you cannot give it to your summer intern yet.

Rachitsky offers a framework of AI in the middle: humans set direction at the start, AI does a lot of the work, and humans review and iterate at the end. Graham names it "the human sandwich." He also cites a previous guest, Tara, who argued that humans will be needed to steer toward the product and world people actually want instead of whatever AI would optimize. As a longtime Airbnb person, he contrasts Booking.com, which he says optimizes every second with upsells and urgency cues like "only one spot left," with Airbnb's aim for an experience that feels good. He acknowledges Booking's approach is effective and the business is doing well. Graham calls part of this taste. Rachitsky argues it goes beyond taste to vision, since Booking's people also have taste, just of a different kind. The question is what you want the world to look like.

Graham returns to the intern framing. Outsourcing your vision, or the future of the world, to a group of summer interns is a problem. "You individually are phenomenal at a set of things," she says. AI can enable and amplify that, but "don't outsource it to these weird robots that, you know, are effectively summer interns."

Holding on to what you love, and holding funerals

Rachitsky asks whether people can hold on to parts of their jobs they love as AI improves, such as engineers who enjoy writing code. Graham has two responses, shaped by her conversation with the engineer at the tech company.

First, she wonders whether there will be a backlash. People have suggested that AI-generated art may make human-made art more valuable. As a non-engineer, and saying she is not making a claim, she asks whether human-written code could become valuable or fashionable again. She has seen enough reversals that it is hard to tell a trend from something permanent.

Second, she cites Chip Conley, who is coming on WorkLife and talked with her about midlife. Conley said sometimes you need to hold a funeral for things. Graham agrees: mourn what was, then ask what you could love that much again, or be that extraordinary at, if robots are doing other parts of the work. Both can be true: sadness about loss and opportunity ahead. She thinks the grief often gets skipped because people are simply told to get excited about the future.

Slow takeoff, and why you're not too late

Rachitsky mentions a reported incident in which an OpenAI model, running a swarm of around a thousand coordinating agents, tried to hack into Hugging Face. Graham jokes that they were "motivated interns." Rachitsky's takeaway is that we seem to be in a slow takeoff, not a fast one: incidents are being caught, and people are learning as they go. He allows that a self-reinforcing loop toward superintelligence may still come, but says it does not currently feel on track, which means jobs will not disappear tomorrow and there is time to adapt.

Graham says this matters because of the "you're already too late" narrative, which she says was stronger three to six months ago: the idea that anyone not automating their whole life and running dozens of agents has been left behind. Every leader and manager she talks to, including people at the big labs, says it is early, "inning one." She quotes her friend Max Mullen: the distance from beginner to expert is really short. She says it will take years to understand what these tools can do and what they are best at, and people should feel they are shaping this instead of being dragged behind a plane taking off at 100 miles an hour.

Rachitsky raises a coming episode about fear of a "permanent underclass" for people who fall behind, and a widening socioeconomic divide as some companies and their employees do extremely well. Graham calls it one of the most important conversations and hopes he does many episodes on it, but says the stories currently circulating "are not real yet." Nobody knows what the future will look like.

Rachitsky cites Ian Silber, OpenAI's head of design, who said this is the best time in history to be a designer: a new graduate starting with today's tools can learn design faster than anyone before. Rachitsky adds that as coding agents get smarter, much of the scaffolding power users built up no longer matters, so a newcomer can quickly build as much as someone who has followed every update. The skill he considers most important, and says got less attention than it deserved when he tweeted it, is to ask before any task, "Can AI help me with this?" He compares it to meditation, which creates space between stimulus and response. Graham connects this to her point about walls: people who have been around a long time carry assumptions about how things are done, and newcomers who do not know the walls exist have an advantage in asking "what if I just did it?"

Rachitsky also brings up ambition. Since tools can now do so much, teams should consider the most ambitious version of an idea instead of defaulting to an MVP. Graham pushes back partly: the other question is whether the result is good. Ambition aimed at building something that lasts interests her. Ambition that just means putting more stuff into the world does not. She raises what she calls a frontier question: will there be an "AI slop version of startups," with many companies that last six to twelve months and then vanish? Rachitsky thinks so. Graham says the opportunity is to be the one who builds something still around and still worthwhile in five years, and that much of what human touch will mean comes down to what is good and what is worth other people's time.

A message to managers and leaders

Near the end, Graham speaks directly to managers and leaders. She thinks the individual contributor's position is somewhat clearer, since ICs are more productive and have more agency to build. Managers face a harder situation: things change so fast that it is hard to know what to tell people, how teams should be shaped, or what matters.

Her first point is that managers are role models. How they use AI and how they carry themselves through this period both filter down. She hopes more managers will openly discuss grief and the emotions of change. Acknowledging it helps people feel saner and less alone, and she repeats that this was most of what the Lego article did.

Her second point is that managers and leaders in particular must protect the definitions of accountability and quality: deciding what is appropriate to give AI, what humans must own, and setting standards accordingly. She praises an AI writing policy Clay published a few weeks earlier, which she describes as being about accountability for what you ship and for quality regardless of how it was made. For now, she says, AI is a tool, like a junior intern, the work is still mostly done by human brains, and organizations need to take care of their people.

Rachitsky connects this to his survey. The strongest lever for happiness at work is a person's manager, something that can actually be changed, unlike much of the AI situation. The same survey found that most people's managers are not good. Graham responds that the trend at large companies of removing whole management layers is a major mistake that will "bite people in the ass" later, because she sees no sign management matters less. If anything it matters more, since a good manager makes people feel seen and supported. She says you only get a couple of good managers in your life, so hold on to them.

Graham cites Elizabeth Stone describing the current period as the "storming" phase. From the team-development model of forming, storming, norming, and performing, Graham adds that teams can slip back from performing into storming, and she expects a lot of that. She also brings back the tornado image from her talks: inside a rapidly changing company it is easy to lose the big picture and fixate on a person, a title, or feeling undervalued. She encourages people to zoom out and ask what story they want to tell afterward. She describes building a giant Lego tiger: you built the feet, then helped with the face, rebuilt the rear three times, and then realized it was a whole zoo. In five or ten years, she says, people will tell new graduates what they got right and wrong in this period, so it is worth deciding now what part of that story you want to be yours.

The takeaways they settled on

Asked to summarize, Graham puts first that change is scary and hard but not bad. You have to accept the emotions and still lean in and let go, because holding on to something that may be slowly dying is not safe either. Grief is part of the process, sometimes it needs a funeral, and leaders should let their teams be sad. She says there is real opportunity and the fear narrative should be muted, because in her reading the data does not say there are no jobs. It suggests opportunity is being created, especially for people willing to reinvent what their job will be in five years instead of what it was two years ago. She also names breaking down walls between roles.

Rachitsky adds Zomorodi's reframe that your job will continue but look different, noting that there are more journalists than before "for better or for worse," and so far more PMs and engineers. He also stresses being deliberate about what to give AI: not the things it will do badly, not the things you love, and not so much that you overrely on it. Graham adds that people should treat AI as an intern and ask what they would and would never give an intern, and that unlike her original advice, some Legos should simply be kept. Deciding what humans are uniquely good at, she says, will be the conversation of the coming years. Rachitsky's version is to be the person steering the work toward the world you actually want, not the simplest path or wherever the AI points. Graham ends with the individual version: how can this new tool, "this unintelligent intern that you've hired," let you do more of what you love and amplify you, instead of feeling that you are only losing things to it.

Both acknowledge they are in the middle of events without knowing how they end. Graham recommends that lonely or unsupported leaders find a community, Glue Club or another, where they can compare notes on what is real and what is not. She thanks Rachitsky for making space for the human side of this moment, which she thinks is discussed far less than tools and skills. They agree they will probably look back at this conversation in a year or two and laugh at what they got wrong.