BoumTAC

The 35-Year Crisis

Published on February 12, 2026

Ah, existential crises! We hear about them everywhere: the famous midlife crisis at 40, the one in your thirties where everyone questions everything, or even the one in your fifties that pushes deep introspection. But there's one that often goes unnoticed, the one that hits around 35. Not a spectacular crisis with cascading divorces or impulsive trips to Bali—no. This one's more insidious, more professional. It's the 35-year crisis, that moment when you think everything's under control, and yet the ground starts shaking beneath your feet. Personally, as a developer with a decade of experience under my belt, I've felt it coming like a wave building slowly. And I'm not alone. Let me explain why this crisis is so unique and how it can turn everything upside down if you're not careful.

At 35, we often feel like we've climbed the Everest of our career. The years of struggle are behind us, and we're savoring the fruits of our labor. But that's exactly when the trap closes. This crisis isn't just about age; it's a crossroads between the satisfaction of an accomplished journey and the ruthless reality of a world that never stops. In this article, I'll break down the facets of this crisis: the accumulation of experience that lulls us to sleep, the lightning-fast changes in the work world, the personal ups and downs that add to the picture, the warning signs not to ignore, and finally, how to get out of it by turning this period into an opportunity.

Accumulated Experience: A Comfortable Cocoon That Can Become a Prison

Let's start with the positive, or at least what seems positive at first. At 35, most of us have about a decade of professional experience under our belts. It's concrete: projects successfully completed, skills honed, expertise recognized by peers and employers. In my case, as a developer, I've dabbled in everything: backend in Python to frontends in JavaScript, passing through SQL and NoSQL databases. I've worked on web apps, APIs, and even automation tools. Result? A decent salary and much better working conditions than at the start. Remote work, stable team, responsibilities that command respect. We finally feel "arrived."

This expertise isn't stolen. It was built brick by brick. Remember your early years: all-nighters debugging code, free training on YouTube, mistakes that teach more than any tutorial. At 35, we master our field. We anticipate problems, mentor juniors, and negotiate promotions without flinching. It's gratifying. And that's when the danger lurks: complacency. We rest on our laurels. "My career is set," we tell ourselves. "Now, just enjoy." Weekends fill up with personal hobbies instead of tutorials on the latest tech. Conferences? Meh, we went five years ago.

But it's not just laziness. There's a deep identity aspect. At this age, our job becomes part of who we are. I see myself as a "senior developer," and it defines my conversations, hobbies, even my reading. If someone asks what I do for a living, that's the first answer out. This strong identification is an asset, but it makes us vulnerable. Imagine: you've invested ten years in a specific skillset, and suddenly the wind shifts. No plan B. In dev, for example, I've seen colleagues say "chill, I know C++ well, no need for web," and get stuck when companies shift all apps to the web. We imagine a linear, eternal life, but reality is much more volatile.

This comfort phase can last years. You climb the ladder, maybe to lead dev or tech manager, with a nice office and endless coffee breaks. But beneath the surface, an inner voice whispers: "What if it stops?" That's the start of the crisis. Experience is a treasure, but if not maintained, it molds. At 35, we have the means to train—time, money, maturity—but we often choose ease. Fatal mistake. This section alone could fill pages, because accumulated experience is both our strength and our Achilles' heel. It gives confidence but pushes us toward inertia. And in a world that's accelerating, inertia is the risk of losing everything.

The World Changes at Breakneck Speed: The Invisible Threat of Technological Revolutions

Now, let's get to the heart of the problem: the world doesn't wait for us. At 35, we tend to slow down, settle into a comfortable rhythm, but around us, everything's boiling. Young upstarts arrive, hungry, ready to do anything to make a spot. They work weekends, accept junior salaries, and learn at a crazy pace. They're determined, and they're eyeing our chair. Worse: they're ready to do our job for less, with an energy that the years' wear might have stolen from us.

But it's not just human competition. The real game-changer is technology. Take AI: it's revolutionizing everything. In my field, we don't code the same way anymore. Before, a senior dev like me could spend hours optimizing an algorithm. Today, we prompt Claude or Codex, and in seconds, it's done. It's a revolution like the internet in the 2000s. Remember: 15 years ago, the smartphone swept everything away. Internet access everywhere, no need to sit at a desk for a Google search, GPS in your pocket, instant translation, file sharing in one click. It gave birth to Uber, Spotify, WhatsApp—services that were impossible before. And we forget it was a shock: goodbye paper maps, goodbye trips to the post office for mail, goodbye archive binders to store, goodbye disc players.

Revolutions happen every decade. The airplane killed long sea voyages; the car, horses; the fax, carrier pigeons (almost). In dev, it's cyclical: languages are born, others die. JavaScript exploded with SPAs, mobile with iOS/Android. Miss a train, and you're has-been. At 35, we have the experience to adapt, but we often resist. "Why learn Rust when Python does the job?" we say. Mistake: a junior with AI does the same as you, without your years of experience. Your added value evaporates.

And let's be honest: AI is mass extinction for developers. I think we're heading for a 50% reduction in dev jobs within the next two years, minimum. Maybe 90% within five years. Companies are realizing they can do with two devs what ten seniors used to do. And these two devs? Jack-of-all-trades with 3 to 6 years of experience, with monstrous adaptability and real business understanding: knowing what the client truly wants, putting yourself in their shoes, creating something they genuinely need. Exactly the opposite of a 35-year-old senior stuck in technical certainties. The comfortable devs—those who told themselves "I have my place, they need me"—will realize they got played. Ten years perfecting a language or framework, never understanding that business is all about trade-offs, compromises, pragmatism—and suddenly, they're not needed anymore. They don't have a place anymore. All that's left is to retrain, find another path. That's what awaits many developers who will experience the 35-year crisis.

And it doesn't stop at tech. In finance, fintechs like Revolut or N26 have outdated traditional banks. Goodbye counters, hello fee-free apps. How many 35-year-old bankers ended up unemployed? All the branches are closing. In marketing, TV and newspaper campaigns gave way to social media. Imagine the shock 15 years ago: going from a 100k euro spot to a free Instagram post. Entire agencies shut down. And secretaries? They were everywhere 20 years ago. Today, Doctolib handles appointments, Spendesk expense reports. These jobs vanished. What do these people do? They retrain, or they sink.

Nothing is static. Before the industrial revolution, a trade lasted a lifetime. Now, max 20 years. At 35, we're in the middle: experienced enough to be targeted, not old enough for retirement. A bad turn—a company missing the boat, economic layoff—and in two years, it's the street. In dev, we quickly forget that a senior comfortably at 70k a year can end up in temp work at minimum wage in no time. Why? Because they've only known one world. If we don't adapt and our job no longer exists, we're out.

The world changes, and we with it, or without us.

Side Issues: When Personal Life Gets Involved

But the professional crisis doesn't strike in a vacuum. At 35, personal life starts weighing heavy, and these mishaps can amplify the disaster. It's the age when family foundations shift: marriages cracking, kids arriving or growing up, responsibilities piling up. A divorce, for example, affects one in three couples around this age. Separation, alternating custody, child support—it empties the bank account and mental energy. Add post-divorce debt: mortgage to pay alone, lawyers to foot. Suddenly, your "comfortable" salary isn't enough.

And health? At 35, we're no longer invincible. Serious illnesses emerge: early cancer, depression from burnout, or a stupid accident—bike in the rain, poorly insured ski trip. Loss of a loved one too: aging parents, friends taken by life. These emotional shocks erode resilience.

Imagine: you lose your job because the project you were on didn't pan out, and meanwhile, a divorce hits you. Double whammy. You job hunt with a broken heart, bills piling up, and kids to support. In dev, where interviews are extremely long and stressful, it's hell. Or worse: an illness that keeps you bedridden while your expertise atrophies. These side issues aren't rare; they're common at this age. They turn a manageable pro crisis into a tsunami. At 35, we often forget that life isn't a long calm river.

This personal-pro entanglement is what makes the 35-year crisis so vicious. It's not isolated; it intertwines with everything else. And when it all aligns badly, it's a total shitshow.

Warning Signs: How to Spot the Crisis Before It Explodes

Now, how do you know if you're there? The warning signs are subtle at first, but they pile up. The first: when you start saying "back in my day, we did it like this." It's the classic marker of resistance to change. In dev, it's criticizing low-code platforms because "we lose control." But really, it's fear of the unknown.

Another sign: seeing new tools as gadgets. AI, cloud, new framework—"meh, passing hype." Mistake: tomorrow, it's your bread and butter. Avoiding training is another red flag. At 35, with a good salary, we can afford a MOOC or conference, but we skip for "lack of time." Result? We stagnate while juniors sprint. Resistance to change grows with age and responsibilities: family, house, we prioritize stability. And the career plateau: rare promotions, routine settling in. You code the same features for ages; the excitement is gone.

Conclusion: Turn the Crisis into a Springboard

In conclusion, the 35-year crisis is real, but not inevitable. I see it around me: talented pros resting, unaware of the traps. It freaks me out; I watch them become has-beens little by little. We won't all come through unscathed, but we can prepare. Don't rest: continue the efforts and habits that got you where you are today, without waiting to be sidelined to shake yourself up. Experience is your asset—it's a major one—but evolution is your survival. At 35, life is just beginning.