Getting culled sucks. There’s really no other way to put it when you’re sitting in a glass-walled conference room or staring at a "Meeting Invitation" from a random HR rep you’ve never met. It feels personal. It feels like a judgment on your worth. But honestly? In the current 2026 economic landscape, being culled from a bloated corporate roster is often the violent shove people need to actually find a role that doesn't soul-crush them daily.
We talk about culling in agriculture or wildlife management—removing specific animals from a group to improve the health of the herd. When that terminology migrated into the corporate world, it got cold. It got clinical. It became a way for CEOs to avoid saying "we messed up our hiring projections" or "we're pivoting to AI and don't need 400 middle managers anymore." If you’ve been culled, you aren't just a casualty; you’re a data point in a broader shift of how work actually functions today.
The Reality of Being Culled in a High-Efficiency Economy
The word "layoff" implies something temporary, like a factory closing for the winter. Culling is different. It’s a permanent removal. When companies like Meta or Amazon slashed thousands of roles over the last few years, they weren't just "downsizing." They were culling specific departments that no longer fit the long-term vision of a lean, algorithm-driven enterprise.
It’s brutal.
You’ve probably seen the LinkedIn posts. The "Today was my last day" messages that try to sound brave but smell like panic. Look, the reality is that the 2026 job market doesn't reward loyalty the way it did in 1995. If your role is part of a culled group, it usually means the company’s leadership decided that the specific function you provide is either redundant or easily automated. That’s a hard pill to swallow, but it’s the truth of the modern "Efficiency Era."
Why it feels different this time
In the past, being let go meant you were a "low performer." Not anymore. Nowadays, the highest performers are often the first to be culled because they carry the highest salaries. It’s a math problem. If a Director of Operations making $220k can be replaced by a streamlined software suite and a junior manager making $85k, that Director is getting culled. It doesn't matter if they saved the company millions last year. The spreadsheet doesn't have a column for "gratitude."
Signs You're About to Be Culled
You can usually smell it before it happens. It’s in the air.
Meetings get shorter. You start getting excluded from "long-term strategy" emails. If you notice that your boss is suddenly very interested in "documenting your processes" or "creating a handbook for your daily tasks," you’re being culled. They are essentially asking you to write the manual for your own replacement. It’s grim, but savvy professionals recognize these signals early.
- The "Efficiency Audit": A consulting firm shows up and starts asking what you actually do all day.
- Budget Freezes: Not just for travel, but for the basic tools you need to do your job.
- Leadership Silence: When the C-suite stops talking about the "family" and starts talking about "unit economics" and "runway."
If you see these, don't wait for the calendar invite. Start moving.
The Psychology of the Culling Process
The mental toll is the part nobody prepares you for. We tie our identities to our titles. "I'm a Senior Lead at X Company" becomes who you are. When that’s culled, who are you? The shock can last weeks.
Experts like Dr. Amy Edmondson, who specializes in psychological safety, often point out that when organizations cull staff without transparency, it destroys the "social contract." The employees who stay—the "survivors"—often experience a massive drop in productivity because they’re just waiting for the next blade to fall. It’s a toxic cycle.
If you’re the one who got the boot, you actually have an advantage: you know where you stand. The people still inside are living in a state of constant, low-grade dread. You're free. They're just waiting.
How to Pivot After Being Culled
Okay, so the worst happened. You're out. Your badge doesn't work. Your laptop is a brick. Now what?
First, stop refreshing LinkedIn for five minutes. The instinct is to immediately apply for the exact same job at a competitor. That’s a mistake. If your role was culled at Company A, it’s likely being scrutinized at Company B, C, and D too. Instead of looking for a "job," look for a "problem."
What did you actually solve? Were you the one who kept the supply chain from collapsing? Were you the only person who understood the legacy codebase? That’s your value. Not your title.
Diversify your "Professional Portfolio"
The era of the single-employer career is dead. Being culled is a loud, annoying wake-up call that you need multiple streams of professional relevance. Maybe that means consulting. Maybe it means starting a niche newsletter or taking a fractional leadership role.
In 2026, the most resilient people are those who are "un-cullable" because they don't belong to just one herd. They have their hands in three or four different pots. It sounds exhausting, and it kind of is, but it’s way safer than betting your entire mortgage on the whims of a mid-level VP who needs to hit a quarterly target.
What Most People Get Wrong About Corporate Culling
People think it’s about performance. It almost never is.
I’ve seen entire teams of geniuses get culled because a merger happened and the new owners preferred a different software stack. I've seen departments deleted because a CEO had a "visionary" dream after a weekend retreat.
🔗 Read more: Economic Boom: What the Opposite of a Recession Actually Looks Like
- It’s not a meritocracy. Hard work doesn't protect you from a culling.
- HR is not your friend. They are there to facilitate the culling with the least amount of legal risk to the company.
- The company won't "miss" you. They might struggle for a month, but they will adapt. Don't hold onto the ego-driven idea that they’ll regret it. They won't.
Taking Action: Your Post-Cull Checklist
If you’ve been culled, or you think it’s coming, you need a tactical plan. No fluff.
Secure your data (Legally). Don't steal trade secrets, obviously. But do make sure you have a record of your personal wins, your metrics, and your contact list of people who actually like you. Once that email is shut off, it's gone.
Audit your expenses. Immediately. Culling usually comes with a severance, but don't treat it like a bonus. It’s a bridge. Treat it like a finite resource that needs to last six months, even if you think you’ll find a job in six weeks.
Rebrand your narrative. Don't say "I was culled in a mass layoff." Say "I was part of a major structural pivot and I'm using this transition to focus on [New Skill/Industry]." It sounds better. It feels better. It changes the power dynamic in interviews.
Skill up where it hurts. If you were culled because of automation, learn the automation. If you were culled because of outsourcing, learn how to manage the outsourced teams. Lean into the friction.
The reality of 2026 is that the workforce is more fluid—and more volatile—than ever. Being culled isn't the end of the book; it’s just the part where the plot gets interesting. It forces a level of self-reliance that a "stable" job never will. Embrace the chaos, find your niche, and stop looking for a "herd" to join. Build your own.
Immediate Steps to Take Now
- Review your severance agreement with a lawyer before signing anything; many companies try to sneak in overly restrictive non-competes that aren't even enforceable in 2026.
- Update your LinkedIn headline to reflect the problem you solve, not the title you just lost (e.g., "Helping SaaS companies scale their DevOps" instead of "Unemployed DevOps Manager").
- Reach out to three former colleagues for a "no-pressure" coffee; the best leads come from people who already know your work, not from "Apply Now" buttons.
- Check your health insurance options immediately; the gap between employer-sponsored plans and private ones is a major stressor that needs to be solved in the first 48 hours.
- Set a strict "Deep Work" schedule for your job search; spending 8 hours a day on job boards is a recipe for burnout—aim for 3 hours of high-quality networking and skill-building instead.