The Dinosaur Developer: How Not to Become One

Feeling like a developer dinosaur in a world of ever-changing tech? This humorous take explores the journey of aging in the tech industry, sharing stories and advice on how seasoned professionals can avoid becoming obsolete and stay relevant amidst rapid technological evolution.

Here's my dad—he is 50. Once a Senior Architect with magical tech prowess, his stint in the Ivory Tower zapped those powers away. Now he's our favorite dinosaur—a fossil in tech but a wizard in the garden!

Aging sneaks up on you like a surprise deployment on a Friday evening. One minute you're celebrating your 30th birthday, confidently navigating the latest tech trends. The next, you're 50, and your kids are explaining to you what TikTok is while you reminisce about the good old days of dial-up modems.

Let's talk about development consultants, project managers, and leaders—the folks who've been around since "floppy disk" wasn't a term used to describe your back after sitting too long. In my younger years, I was that hotshot 27-year-old who got promoted faster than you can say "dotcom bubble." It was the early 2000s, a time when if you could spell "HTML," you'd get hired as a developer. If not, well, there was always a content manager position with your name on it.

I accepted the managerial position gladly, as it came with a significant increase in salary. However, this new role required me to stop coding, causing me to lose touch with emerging technologies like Enterprise Java Beans (EJB). After six months, I noticed that I was becoming disconnected from active development. I soon transitioned to a project manager role, which further distanced me from hands-on development. It wasn't until three years later that I returned to the development field, with my knowledge still relevant—back then, technology stacks didn't evolve as rapidly as they do today. In the current environment, new JavaScript frameworks and rebranded technologies emerge frequently, capturing widespread attention.

During my early career as a developer and project manager in my 20s and 30s, I often encountered freelance consultants. They typically wore suits and conducted themselves with a sense of authority, often performing their roles effectively. There were consultants aged between 40 and 55, and I frequently wondered why some of the older ones seemed dismissive or belittling. Upon evaluating their technical expertise, I found that they often lacked depth. If challenged, they would become humble, but I never took satisfaction in undermining others.

I perceived many consultants, regardless of age, as arrogant. However, I feel this has changed over time. Consultants over 50 today seem more approachable, although perhaps my perception is influenced by my own age. The phenomenon of the "Empty Suit Consultant" appears less common now, possibly because there is a greater focus on tangible results.

People often respect others based solely on their appearance. I recall attending a meeting with a customer who had assembled five senior representatives. Two consultants from a small two-person consulting firm were present, both well-dressed and in their mid-40s. Our company also sent five representatives.

The meeting's agenda was unclear, centered around the failure of a project. Our company provided the customer with a payment solution, and the customer had employed the two-person consulting firm to integrate their ERP system with our solution. The project was described as a "massive failure" at the outset of the meeting.

The customer's representatives, all in their late 50s and formal in demeanor, seemed intent on assigning blame. I was selected as the focal point for their frustrations, despite being unprepared for such a confrontation. For 30 minutes, the consultants criticized our company while I listened, unsure why I was being held responsible. I was merely their technical contact for inquiries.

It appeared that the consultants had not delivered effectively.

After their lengthy critique, one of the consultants asked me, "So what did you do wrong?"

All eyes were on me. It was like one of those slow-motion scenes in movies where the protagonist has an epiphany.

I casually replied, "Can we have a look at your implementation plan?"

Silence. You could hear a pin drop.

"W... what do you mean?" he stammered.

"Well," I said, channeling my inner Sherlock Holmes, "surely for a project this pivotal, you have some kind of technical plan. A Design Document? Technical Specifications?"

Their faces went blank, like screens during a power outage. "Um, we don't have one," he admitted.

Such a noob mistake. They could have talked themselves out of it but they did not even try.

And just like that, the tables turned faster than a rotating database. The blame game was over. Actually, the consultans were not that smart to be honest. They just thought they were, and had prepared such a "masterpiece" to shift the blame over to me. We spent the rest of the meeting discussing solutions, and I walked out feeling like I'd just debugged a nightmare codebase.

Senior colleagues from my company praised my handling of the situation.

"I don't know how you managed that," one said. "It was a challenging setup, and you navigated it successfully." I was the younges participant.

The lesson here? Don't be cocky as a consultant. It's a small tech world, and the younger generation might just outsmart you—or at least know how to Google faster.

These days, the problem isn't just arrogance; it's obsolescence. Some consultants have stopped learning new tech, becoming as outdated as Internet Explorer (may it rest in peace). They morph into "general consultants" or "Ivory Tower Architects," dishing out advice without touching actual code, much like a food critic who hasn't tasted food in years.

But you can't hide behind buzzwords forever. Clients want results, not recycled jargon. Telling them you "played with AI" because you asked Siri for the weather doesn't cut it. You need to dive into the nitty-gritty—Kubernetes, Terraform, GitHub Actions—the works. Otherwise, you'll find yourself as employable as a fax machine repairman.

So what's the solution for the aging tech professional? Some "retire" (a.k.a. get nudged out) or find a cozy spot in a big corporation where they can hibernate in meetings. But the real MVPs are those who keep learning, adapting, and actually enjoy the ever-changing tech landscape. They're the gems—seasoned professionals who can spot a fad from a mile away and know which "new" technologies are just repackaged failures from a decade ago.

As for the rest? Well, they risk becoming the office dinosaurs—great for anecdotes, not so great for pushing projects forward. If you find yourself hitting the 45-50-year mark, it's time to either aim for that director's chair or double down on learning. Keep up with the latest tech not because you have to, but because it's genuinely fascinating. Plus, it'll keep you young—or at least your brain.

As for developers reaching the age of 60, I have encountered few in this category, except during the era of COBOL in the late 1990s. Stay curious, stay humble, and for the love of code, stay away from becoming an Empty Suit.