Why Half of Product Managers Are in Trouble: Nikhyl Singhal on Builders, Judgment, and the Courage to Reinvent

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Overview

Nikhyl Singhal is a former product executive at Meta, Google, and Credit Karma, a four-time founder, and the founder of The Skip, a community of about 125 heads of product. In his second appearance on Lenny's Podcast, he tries to answer a question many product managers are asking: what is actually happening to their profession, and what should they do about it? His answer is blunt. The next two years will be chaotic. The people who love building will "have the time of their lives." The roughly half of product managers whose main skill has been moving information are "in trouble." The deciding factor, he argues, is less about talent than about whether people are willing to cross a psychological threshold and start reinventing themselves.

33 min read
3:51

Three years ago: responsibility without authority

Singhal starts with the period of his first appearance, around the end of COVID, when the zero-interest-rate era was cresting. The industry was then the biggest it had ever been, with more product managers and CPOs than at any point in history, and people were well paid. Even so, he says, the product leaders he talked to at the time "weren't very happy." Their days were mostly spent moving information: reshaping how their team presented something to their boss so that the boss could reshape it again for their own boss. The function had become focused on "responsibility without authority," which he calls the greatest form of workplace stress.

People today talk mostly about new worries, such as whether AI will replace their function. Singhal's point is that anyone who has been in product for a few years should remember how hard that earlier period was.

5:29

A renaissance that comes with exhaustion

What has changed, in his view, is that product people are having fun again because they can build. They depend on fewer people to have impact, and their ideas connect more directly to testing and to customers. He calls this "a complete renaissance for the product industry." Among the strongest builders in his network, he reports that compensation is at an all-time high, offers are more plentiful than ever, and many see their next role as founder, CEO, or a C-level job outside product.

He is just as direct about the cost. He says he has "never seen an industry that's more tired than they are now." Once, people could learn their job and be fine for a decade before becoming a manager. Now, if you fall three months behind, colleagues tell you the team stopped doing that thing three months ago. Even PRDs are questioned, and "everyone's in a state of alert." At the same time, large employers are cutting tens of thousands of people while also hiring and paying triple wages. Which side of that you land on shapes how you see the whole situation.

He singles out mid-career people, roughly those in their 30s, as especially strained. These are their "power years": they finally know what they are doing. They are also settling down, having kids, watching their parents age and become dependent, and dealing with their own health for the first time. Work already takes whatever time is left, and now it also changes constantly: "what's the latest in Claude Code? They changed it this morning." There is joy, he says, "but there's fatigue in a way that I haven't quite seen before."

Asked whether product leaders are better or worse off than two or three years ago, he separates how people describe it from how he sees it. He measures "doing better" by how much choice people have and how happy they are likely to be over time. By that standard, the people at the top of their game are doing much better because they find their jobs more interesting. They are still stressed, but differently: they wish they had more time "to feed the LLM at night," which is not the same as wondering whether their team can get through the organization's decision-making malaise. On average, though, the industry is under stress. Even people who are doing well worry about falling behind or becoming "roadkill" as the industry changes.

12:06

A meetup that sounded like a foreign language

To show how fast things are moving, Singhal describes a recent meetup of his head-of-product group in San Francisco. Many members were building tools for their companies or for their own productivity, so the group held a show-and-tell. Presenters came from a startup, mid-size companies, and late-stage companies.

Two things stood out to him. The first was the joy in the room. People had their laptops open and were one-upping each other, describing what their "chief of staff" apps did for them. The second was that the way they described product decisions, prioritization, and information flow inside their companies looked like a "completely foreign animal" compared with how he had worked only a few years earlier. He told the room that none of it, including agents in the enterprise, chief-of-staff apps, spending all their time on judgment, and writing software around anything that could be made obsolete, had even been in the vocabulary 12 months before. So what would it look like 12 months from now? According to him, the room went quiet. Nobody could have predicted that conversation a year earlier, and nobody could say where it was going.

14:45

Judgment becomes the job

He still offers a prediction for the next two years. Product leaders will increasingly be paid to exercise judgment and to be "the tip of the spear" in making everything else obsolete through software, AI, and agents. Part of the excitement, he admits, is that most of what PMs never liked doing is exactly what AI is going after. He expects most companies to have automated the mechanical parts of building product within two years. Because testing and changing things will become so much cheaper, products may see "10 to 100 times more" changes than before, which makes judgment "pretty much paramount."

When Lenny asks what judgment means, Singhal describes it as evaluating whether a change is good or bad, and whether the product should change one way or another. You cannot build 100 custom versions of the same product without damaging the brand and maintainability. Judgment means deciding how to build something sustainable and differentiated, and whether a change meets that bar and is worth building and releasing. He calls it "the system skill" that has existed since the early internet: the focus is not on the feature but on the system or platform being put together.

"There won't be any more bad software"

As an aside, Singhal predicts that in two years there will be no more bad software, while admitting this may be "more of a wish and a dream than a prediction." His house has about 15 apps controlling everything from the shades to the air conditioning to the garage door, and almost none of them work well or are ever maintained. He expects that someone will "tell Claude to fix it" and it will get fixed, and be more secure too. Once that happens, he argues, people will tolerate bad software much less. He imagines a "super skill" run against every app in the app store that turns out more consistent, less buggy, more maintainable versions.

Lenny adds that his most common prompt to Codex and Claude is simply to ask how the product experience could be better, then tell it to implement the first seven suggestions. He also notes that many such apps were built by companies that aren't product-first and didn't care much about the software. Those companies now have access to highly skilled AI engineers, and all it takes to ask for better software is English.

Singhal pushes the point to legacy systems. He says that until very recently there may have been more lines of COBOL than of any other language, and that mainframe sales remain a large line item for companies like IBM. He once spent an hour and a half trying to get his United MileagePlus account to work with his daughter's phone, which he attributes partly to complex mainframe-based systems. Many of the engineers who wrote that code decades ago have, in his words, literally passed away, and touching that code is "all downside," so nobody does. He is excited that AI could change this.

20:32

Shed 30,000, rehire 8,000

Singhal's most striking prediction is about staffing. Companies are looking hard at headcount and asking whether they over-hired. Many public companies roughly doubled their staff over the last five years, and they are now asking whether they got twice as much for it. He recalls that at Google, more than 10 to 15 years ago, people on ancillary teams like his used to ask how many employees Google really needed to hit its numbers. With 20,000 to 40,000 people at the time, he suggests the honest answer was closer to 9% than 90%, maybe about 500 people to keep the lights on and build the business. Companies hire beyond that because they want to expand and try new things, not simply because they want bureaucrats.

Now, he says, "a judgment day has come back." Companies feel they didn't get enough from recent hiring, and AI requires a different skill set. Together, he predicts, this will mean that "in the next 12 to 24 months, we're going to see massive shedding of staffs, and then massive rehiring." A company might shed 30,000 people and hire 8,000, and those 8,000 "are going to all be AI-first." He calls this "dark" and expects it to make the coming year or two very difficult.

23:33

The most open PM roles in years, and the builder divide

Lenny offers a counterpoint from his recent job-market report: open PM roles at tech companies globally are at their highest level in more than three years, last seen around COVID. Singhal says the report lined up with three points he had planned to make: builders are going to have the time of their lives, compensation is up, and the Bay Area is back in favor.

How can there be record openings while so many product people struggle to find roles? Singhal says it depends on how you define a product manager, and that the definition has, for the first time, shifted dramatically. Three years ago they discussed various PM archetypes, some more in demand than others. Now, he says, "the information mover is essentially going to become a dinosaur." He estimates that about half of product people who grew up in the industry have information-moving as their core skill. The other half came into product because they like to build, and those are the people everyone wants. Engineers, designers, and marketers can be builders too, and he expects "builders wanted" to be the tagline for the next couple of years.

He ties this back to satisfaction. As a PM, he used to take breaks to change light bulbs at home, because seeing something broken get fixed was so rare in a product job. That rarity is part of having responsibility without authority. Now PMs can create a design themselves instead of persuading a designer or waiting in a backlog.

He also sees builders moving into other functions. In his community's first two to three years, while it grew to 60 or 70 members, there was one founder. In the last 12 months, as it grew to about 125, 14 members chose to found companies instead of taking another product executive role. One very senior member interviewed for a CHRO (chief HR officer) role because the company specifically wanted a product background. Forward-leaning companies, he says, want someone who brings obsolescence, judgment, empowerment, and building skills to the function, and the function itself may be the easier part to learn. He expects the lines between product, engineering, and other roles to blur in both directions.

29:38

If you don't love building

The flip side, he says, has to be said out loud. Many people in product say things like "I'm not really into tech." They took the job because it paid well and suited their strengths in communication, moving information, and team building, things Singhal says he loves too. "But if you don't love building stuff, you're in trouble." Some of those roughly half may need to leave tech, start a non-tech business using AI tools, or find entirely different work. He describes the non-builder problem as a "mirror image" of the builder growth story.

Lenny raises a counterpoint from his conversation with Amol Avasare, head of growth at Anthropic. Because engineers can now do so much, PMs are getting squeezed by the volume of features, ideas, and documents they have to track. Avasare's view was that a PM's leverage may be higher when they are not coding and shipping, and that Anthropic needs more PMs.

Singhal says it depends on what "shipping" means. If you have 50 engineers building for customers and you become the 51st, that is "kind of a cheap knockoff of an engineer." If instead you are building ways to keep track of what those 50 people are doing, replacing tickets, backlogs, and stand-ups, that is where the leverage is. At the CPO meetup, most of what people had built was internal tooling to make their product organizations more efficient. Some companies already say they have fully automated product reviews and product stand-ups. If ten times as much is happening, judgment is needed to decide which changes are good, "and right now if it's manual, we're cooked." Companies will therefore hire product builders with judgment and, increasingly, people whose job is to build internal decision-making tools, through technology rather than more people and management layers. One CPO's reaction captures the appeal: they hated status reports, so they wrote something to replace them, and their boss is happier because they get more detail.

34:28

Adults, pace, and a diversity setback

Singhal adds several more predictions. "Adults are still going to be needed." Fast-growing companies are often led by classic founders, and while AI supplements a lot, judgment comes from expertise combined with wisdom. Members of his community tell him they appeal to companies because they have wisdom but stay hands-on: they can talk to founders in their language and have "seen the movie."

He expects pace to keep increasing, partly to "feed the beast" of LLMs running overnight and partly because the opportunity to move faster is so large. He is not looking forward to what that will mean for burnout.

He also offers what he calls a personal worry: that geographic diversity and diversity in general are going to take a step back. As the industry grew, it made an effort to bring in people from different backgrounds and locations. But the AI wave is so centered on the Bay Area, and companies are hiring fewer people, so they tend to hire people who "look and act like themselves." He believes age, gender, and ethnic diversity are all taking a hit, possibly setting the industry back "quite a number of years." He doesn't think anyone is doing this on purpose. But when pace is this high, people in their power years who are having children, he mentions women in particular, don't have time to spend nights and weekends in Claude Code. He says the industry doesn't talk about this, "but it's absolutely true."

37:14

Brands matter less than being modern

One of the most surprising shifts, Singhal says, is that personal brands, meaning the companies on your résumé and the products you shipped at scale, matter less than how modern you are in delivering product. In their last conversation, he and Lenny had emphasized the value of those brands. Now, if the whole way of building software is alien compared with the last decade, how you shipped things in the old way becomes less relevant. The interview feedback he hears is about scenarios: which tools you use, what your judgment is, how you think. It is not about the thinking behind something you shipped five years ago. Spending six years at an established company that isn't working in a current way can leave you feeling like you've come out into a different world.

He adds that at the biggest companies, it is hard even to explain what you did. Spending two years at Meta making part of an algorithm run a little faster may have had huge impact and required real skill navigating the organization. As a former Meta employee, he says he respects that as a promotable achievement. But it "falls very flat" in a conversation with someone "living in the future."

Lenny summarizes: the skills that used to be valued in PMs are changing substantially. Singhal goes further and says they may be "flipped upside down." Many people start as builders and are then taught to value leverage, scale, organizing, and empowering others: "stop working on the car, work on the factory." That is how the industry matured. Now it may turn out that scale can happen very differently, and what matters is your opinion and what you build. "That's very jarring."

40:52

Why reinvention is so hard

When Lenny asks for specific advice, Singhal begins with psychology. Humans aren't designed to change easily, and we are taught to change less as we age. Kids fall down constantly, reinvent how they move, and learn languages quickly because they aren't afraid of mistakes. He gives his own example of deciding he was too old to learn to ski. Adults are trained to find a stable middle ground and change as little as possible: find a partner, settle down, find a job and stay, treat changing jobs as a failure to avoid.

That creates a mental block. When told to reinvent themselves, people first ask whether it's really necessary. At a deeper level, he says, the feeling is "that just wasn't the deal": I went to school, worked hard, built the brand, became a manager, and now I have to start over? Twitter makes the new world look fun, but part of your mind just wants to go back to how things were. He thinks this block "is actually at the heart of the matter today."

Time is the next obstacle. In the power years, he says, the goal is to "equally disappoint everyone in your life." You have maybe 6, 8, or 12 hours to give and 20 hours of demand, so the only workable prioritization is to make sure no single group, whether parents, kids, health, friends, partner, work, or retirement savings, is disappointed more than the others. Adding reinvention on top of that "disappointment algorithm" is, as he puts it, "quite dark."

Two more factors make it worse. First, the target keeps moving: take a week off to catch up, and three months later what you learned is already outdated. Unlike changing jobs, where you grit your teeth and eventually get back into flow, "I'm never in flow because I got to keep doing this over and over." Second, and most surprising to him, the people who mastered the old game find reinvention hardest. He calls this a "shadow superpower": the better you are at one system, the less likely you are to recognize a new one, because your world is working. Weaker performers have nothing to lose by changing, while strong performers have no incentive, and their employers may be reinforcing that they're doing great.

His main advice is to have the courage to say that work is changing, that you need to stay modern, and to "cross that mental threshold" and prioritize it above everything else. If listeners take one thing away, he says, it should be that each of them needs to find it in themselves to cross the threshold toward embracing reinvention.

Lenny connects this to reports that the heads of the major AI labs, including Demis Hassabis, Sam Altman, and Dario Amodei, said they would slow down if everyone agreed to. Lenny's point is that game theory makes that impossible, so the change is happening regardless, and the only choice is whether to pretend otherwise or lean in.

49:38

The chaos will settle

Singhal offers what he calls a "baby version" of this story, meant to give some comfort. Product management was originally a structured discipline at hardware companies like HP, Cisco, and AMD, with long engineering cycles. Internet companies disrupted it: Google, finding that existing product management wasn't working for it, created the APM program to train a new breed from scratch. Microsoft, Meta, and others followed. For a few years this was jarring, because the new product management resembled the old one "pretty much in name only."

He thinks the next couple of years will be similar: new agents every three months, new forms of judgment, blurred roles, people entering and leaving, "it's going to be chaos." But after a few years, things will settle. Companies will be built a certain way, there will be training and consistency, and your next job will look like your last one. He stresses that he is not saying people will be on a merry-go-round that spins faster for 30 years until they "go vomit in the corner." He is saying that right now, people who love building need to stay current because they will be happier and more relevant, and people who don't love building need to recognize the industry is moving away from them. Lenny finds that empowering: this is a period to get on board, not a permanent state of sacrifice.

54:00

Finding a "moment of joy"

For people who are afraid and feel stuck, Singhal suggests a simple exercise: color each meeting in your week green, yellow, or red. He bets most PMs in traditional product organizations would see mostly yellow and red, while those moving into build mode see mostly green and yellow.

What surprised him is that people make the shift at a specific moment: the first time they feel joy using the new tools. The stories vary and are very personal. It might be an app built with a partner, a chief-of-staff app to manage an inbox, or controlling the lights at home. These stories often come with "and I stayed up all night." His wife, who is not an engineer, went from using AI to write a business plan for a business idea to actually test-marketing it. After that moment, people have "caught a bug," and they move from fear to joy. Joy, he argues, is "the biggest antidote to burnout." Once work stops feeling like work, the rest of your psyche finds time, stops feeling like it's disappointing others, and builds energy. People have more energy than they realize; they're just exhausted by the monotony of what product management had become.

Some people will find all of this boring or nauseating, and he says they should respect that and be honest with themselves that they may not be suited to the next version of the industry. But many anxious product people, he believes, will be happier once they cross over. He advises leaders to look for these moments of joy in their teams, because they are contagious. He is caught up in it himself: he picks TV shows he can vibe code alongside, such as Amazon Prime series like Cross and Jack Ryan, and once rewatched a season of 24 while coding the whole time.

58:53

Singhal's stack and the obsolescence mindset

Singhal says he has been "pretty all in" on Claude for about three months, after about a month using Codex heavily because he found its highest-reasoning modes advanced. He finds switching tools hard, so he tries to standardize.

He builds web properties for his community around anything he can "obsolete and code." With 100 members, not everyone can meet everyone, so he used to decide personally who should meet whom based on who hadn't met yet and what each person needed. Now an agent does the matching. Another agent collects the roles his heads of product are hiring for and matches them with members interested in work, which he calls "the next generation of recruiting." He also has an AI trained on his content that answers people's questions. He reviews the answers, spots recurring themes, and writes about where he and the LLMs disagree.

The principle comes from early in his career. He asked the best engineer he knew for the definition of a great engineer and expected an answer about degrees or technology stacks. Instead, the engineer quoted their father, an engineer from before the tech era: an engineer is someone who obsoletes themselves from everything they do. Singhal has carried that into every job, though he still meets people who don't want to obsolete their own work. AI, he says, has "put an eight ball on that," because now you can just ask the AI to do it. His stack is essentially whatever lets him obsolete everything he does day to day.

Lenny's recommended starting point is to solve your own problem: open Lovable, Claude Code, or Codex and describe in plain English what you want, such as a dashboard for your Sonos. Singhal initially thought this required systems-engineering skill. Watching his wife changed his mind: "You don't even need to be an engineer. You just have to be opinionated on what you want to see."

He admits the path isn't easy. Change feels like such an alarm that it's hard to hear that what's changing is the part of the job you didn't love. You have to go "through the tunnel," and the tunnel may include changing jobs. He predicts that most listeners will be in a different job within five years, either because their company struggles to stay modern or because it sheds and rehires. Since this change has been forced on everyone, he says he has a lot of empathy for people who are gun-shy about it.

1:05:37

Pace, ego, and thinking one move ahead

Beyond finding joy and adopting the obsolescence mindset, Singhal gives three pieces of advice. First, increase your pace. The next two years require "fire in the belly." He compares it to the first year of a new job or a new relationship after a long one, when you bring your best effort: "You got to find that reserve," even if that means disappointing others in new ways to make time.

Second, swallow your ego. He doesn't want anyone saying they will only consider roles at their previous level. If everything is changing, past brands matter less, and people should be willing, and even look for opportunities, to take smaller roles so they get through the tunnel properly.

Third, stay focused on the long term. This is the idea behind the name "The Skip": good career advice is about the move after the next one. The next few years are about getting on the boat to the new world; once there, "the cream rises to the top," and people can bring their leadership and skills with them. The goal is to protect your skip opportunity, meaning the high-paying, premier builder role.

1:09:11

Where product managers go next

Asked where PMs will end up, Singhal describes three things happening at once. First, he is bullish that PMs will spread into every industry as "agents of change." They can communicate, they have the broadest view of the organization through a technical lens, and ideally they are the first to adopt the tools. He imagines product organizations transforming first, then marketing and sales, private-equity-owned companies, and even schools realizing they are behind and looking for someone who "works in the future." He compares product leaders to dandelion seeds scattering. Second, he expects people to move into product from design, data science, and engineering, since anyone with judgment, communication skills, and a point of view may want to leave their lane. Designers, for example, might make the product itself their platform rather than pixels. Third, others will worry they can't get in. That these three changes are happening simultaneously, he says, explains much of the anxiety.

Lenny brings up a tweet listing the "only four jobs" that will remain: the product engineer/vibe coder/PM "slop cannon"; security, SRE, and infrastructure; "hot people" who present an easy UX to the world through sales and customer-facing work; and "grown-ups." Singhal agrees, connecting "grown-ups" to his point about adults and noting that opinionated people at the top of their field who can communicate broadly fit the "hot people" category.

On alignment, Lenny passes along Avasare's comment that more and more of his time as a PM goes to alignment. Singhal breaks alignment into parts. Much of it used to be getting people the right information, the ground truth. He describes projects where documents came to him, he edited them for his boss, and that boss edited them for their boss, with the ground truth buried and everyone adding spin. AI makes that part dramatically better: a CEO can ask an agent how something is performing or what a customer really wants. What remains is deciding and fighting for a position, which becomes clearer with less spin. "Alignment won't go away. It's just not going to have as much theatrics." He bets that about 80% of PMs, asked honestly whether they want their boss's boss's day of back-to-back meetings (not the pay or status), would say no, and he predicts that answer will change within two years.

Engineers and the design plateau

Lenny notes that engineering is changing even more than product, and suggests surviving engineers will become "more PM-y" as coding gets solved. Singhal says engineers have two advantages: they think in systems, so they can judge whether a change is sustainable, and they think more naturally about obsolescence and automation. In his view, product people have an edge in judgment and communication, engineers in systems and scaling, and designers in taste. All of these remain important, and people who have all of them will do best. The industry is "more than safe," as the hiring data shows, but it will involve "a different class of individual."

Lenny is surprised that his data shows design roles plateauing, since he expected design to matter more as products multiply and beauty becomes a differentiator. He adds that while AI can make him a much better PM, he never expects it to make him a great designer. Singhal suggests the industry may not yet know what to make of design in this era. He also proposes a split parallel to builders and information movers: "pixel generators" versus "taste makers." He worries that companies confuse design with production rather than taste, even when hiring design leaders, and that this bias is showing up in hiring plans.

Lightning round: perspiration, anxiety, and a Tesla growth idea

In the lightning round, Singhal admits he isn't much of a reader now, because vibe coding and keeping up with his agents, Reddit, and X have replaced most of his reading. He mentions Percival Everett's James, which retells The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn from Jim's point of view. He found it fascinating to revisit a book first read as a child from another angle as an adult. He recommends the TV series Paradise and Lioness, and says they pass a new bar: he doesn't code while watching them because they require his attention.

His favorite recent product is Tesla's self-driving. He says he isn't a car person. He had driven a Model S for years, and when his daughter got her license, he upgraded to a newer model and now self-drives about 95% of the time. His wife noticed during a snowy drive to the mountains that he is anxious when driving, something he hadn't realized after nearly 40 years behind the wheel, starting at 14 in Kansas. Self-driving removes that anxiety, and he tries to eliminate anything that causes anxiety at this point in his life. Lenny, also a long-time Tesla driver, says it became very good around version 14.2. Singhal points out a product challenge: many people tried earlier versions, turned them off, and are hard to win back. He suggests Tesla let owners gift friends 30 free days of self-driving, combining a referral with a trial.

His life motto, from his high school yearbook, is the quote attributed to Einstein: "Genius is 1% inspiration, 99% perspiration." To him it meant hard work matters most. Read through the lens of AI, he finds it fascinating, because AI will now do the perspiration. We are moving toward a world where inspired individuals set things in motion, he says, while still recognizing that the perspiration is necessary.

He also describes The Skip: a podcast and newsletter created because he felt there was too little content from operators sharing practices with newer operators. The community has grown from about 20 or 30 members at his first appearance to more than 125, and he keeps growth slow to maintain trust. A new project, skip.help, offers agents trained on about 50 community leaders, so a question about interview prep, navigating a workplace, or building a chief-of-staff app gets answers from many of them, not just Singhal.

Smiling exhaustion

In his closing advice, Singhal says there is a lot of room for optimism, but getting there requires a short period of change and exhaustion. Once people reach their moment of joy, it's infectious. The longer they wait, the harder it is to cross over. He acknowledges it takes considerable "activation energy," and notes there is some safety in numbers because so many people are going through it together. He urges everyone to "try their hand at rethinking their craft."

When Lenny asks whether he really sees people in his community thriving, Singhal describes it as "smiling exhaustion." Before, it was just exhaustion, and he would take smiling exhaustion over that. But he doesn't pretend the difficulty will go away soon: "the pace is relentless," and there is nothing he can say to sugarcoat that.