The CDI: A Brake on French Competitiveness?

Published on July 5, 2025

The Contrat à Durée Indéterminée (CDI - permanent employment contract) is often presented as the Holy Grail of the French job market, a French specificity that the whole world supposedly envies us for. However, a more critical analysis reveals that this model could have considerable adverse effects on our economy and our careers. Drawing from my experience in the software development sector, I observe systemic dysfunctions that deserve to be questioned.

The Paralysis of Recruitment

When the Fear of Hiring Becomes Stronger Than the Need

Let's imagine Sarah, technical director of a Parisian startup. Her team is drowning under projects and she urgently needs to hire two developers. But Sarah knows that once these developers are hired on permanent contracts, if they don't work out, she'll have to pay thousands of euros in severance and spend months in legal procedures.

Result: Sarah will multiply the recruitment steps. First a phone screening, then a technical test to do at home, then an interview with the team, then an interview with HR, then sometimes a second technical interview. The process stretches over three months. Meanwhile, projects continue to pile up, the existing team works overtime and begins to show signs of burnout.

Marc, an experienced developer, applies to Sarah's company. He has to take time off from his current company to attend all these interviews, review his algorithms in the evening, redo projects to prove skills he's mastered for ten years. After the second month, Marc finds another position with a faster process and abandons his application with Sarah.

Now, let's imagine a world without permanent contracts. Sarah has a need, she organizes a few interviews over a week, selects the candidate she likes most and hires them. If after two months, it doesn't work out, she can part ways cleanly with a few weeks' notice. Marc doesn't need to prove himself for months, he can show his skills directly at work.

The Domino Effect of Mediocrity

Let's take Julien's development team in a large financial services company. Three years ago, Damien was an excellent developer. But gradually, his motivation declined. He now arrives at 9:30 AM instead of 9 AM, takes longer breaks, and his productivity has dropped by 20%. His colleagues notice: where Damien used to deliver three features per week, he now only delivers two, and with more bugs.

Julien, the team leader, would like to discipline Damien, but he knows it's mission impossible. Damien doesn't commit any serious faults, he just does "the minimum." Impossible to fire him without launching a long and costly procedure that HR will refuse.

Result: the other developers on the team observe the situation. Thomas thinks: "Why should I work my ass off to deliver four features per week if Damien delivers two and earns the same salary?" He slows down his pace. Then it's Léa's turn, then Kevin's. In two years, the team's average productivity has gone from 3.5 features per developer to 2.5.

Two years later, Damien slows down his pace even more. Now he only delivers one and a half features per week. The others follow the movement again. Over a five-year period, this team that was very high-performing now produces 50% of what it produced before. And Julien can't do anything about it.

I observed this exact phenomenon during my time in the police force. Jean-Claude, a brigadier with twenty years of experience, handled three cases per day. Maxime, fresh out of school, handled seven. But after a few months, Maxime saw that Jean-Claude received no criticism for his work and no supervisor said anything to him. Maxime quickly adjusted his pace to Jean-Claude's. We see this whenever we deal with civil servants. They're not subject to risks.

The Golden Prison of Mobility

The Ordeal of Professional Evolution

Let's take the example of Céline, a full-stack developer at a web agency in Lyon. After three years, she perfectly masters her position and wants to evolve toward mobile development in an innovative startup. She's spotted a perfect opportunity in Paris that would allow her to learn React Native and increase her salary by €8,000 per year.

Céline applies. First obstacle: she has to give three months' notice. The Parisian startup has an immediate need to launch an application before the school year starts. They can't wait three months. They move on to the next candidate, less qualified but immediately available.

Céline persists and finds another opportunity. This time, the company agrees to wait. But the recruitment process lasts two months. Between her notice period and the process, Céline has to wait five months to change positions. During this time, she loses motivation in her current job, knowing she's going to leave.

After six months of efforts, Céline gives up. She stays in her current position, with her current salary, without learning new skills. She's lost €8,000 in annual salary, the chance to evolve professionally, and her motivation suffers.

Let's multiply this example by the thousands of Célines who give up evolving each year. How many innovations haven't seen the light of day because the right people couldn't join the right teams at the right time?

When Stagnation Becomes the Norm

Let's now look at Pierre, a senior developer at a large bank. He works on technologies from the 2000s, earns €45,000 per year, and dreams of joining a fintech that pays €65,000 for modern technologies. But changing represents an obstacle course of at least six months.

Pierre thinks: "Is it really worth taking all these risks for €20,000 more?" He stays. His colleague Antoine makes the same calculation. Then Fabrice. Then the whole team.

Result: the bank has no difficulty keeping its developers with below-market salaries and obsolete technologies. Why would it invest in better conditions if nobody leaves?

The fintech, on its side, struggles to recruit. It ends up hiring less experienced profiles and takes longer to develop its products. Everyone loses: Pierre stagnates, the bank doesn't innovate, the fintech struggles to grow.

The Plague of IT Consulting Companies (SSII)

The Absurdity of the System

Let's meet Alexandre, a Python developer who applies for a mission at a major French e-commerce company. But Alexandre doesn't apply directly to the e-commerce company. He applies to an IT consulting company (SSII) that has a contract with the e-commerce company.

Here's Alexandre's journey: he first has interviews with the SSII, without knowing exactly where he'll work. They vaguely tell him there are "several opportunities" and they'll see. Once recruited by the SSII, they announce he'll work at the e-commerce company. New round of interviews, this time with the end client. If he doesn't fit, the SSII has to find him something else.

Meanwhile, the e-commerce company pays €600 per day to the SSII for Alexandre's services. Alexandre receives the equivalent of €350 per day. The SSII takes a €250 margin, more than €5,000 per month. On a six-month mission, Alexandre "loses" €30,000.

Why doesn't the e-commerce company recruit Alexandre directly? Because it's afraid of not being able to get rid of him if the mission goes badly or if the need disappears. So it prefers to pay 40% more to have this flexibility.

Now, imagine a world without permanent contracts. The e-commerce company recruits Alexandre directly. It offers him €500 per day (less than the €600 it paid before, but more than the €350 Alexandre received). Everyone wins: the e-commerce company saves €100 per day, Alexandre earns €150 more per day, and he knows exactly where he'll work and on what.

The Multiplication of Intermediaries

Let's take an even more extreme case: Sophie, a React developer, who works for a bank through a chain of three intermediaries. The bank pays €700 per day to a main SSII. This main SSII subcontracts to a secondary SSII for €550 per day. This secondary SSII subcontracts to a specialized SSII for €450 per day. Sophie finally receives the equivalent of €300 per day.

Sophie does exactly the same work as a developer employed directly by the bank, but she earns 40% less. The three SSIIs share €400 per day without creating value, just serving as intermediaries to circumvent the rigidities of permanent contracts.

The Stress of Layoffs

Three Months of Agony

Let's put ourselves in Fabien's shoes, a developer who learns one Monday morning that his company is eliminating his position. He's told he has three months' notice.

Fabien must continue coming to the office, pretend to work normally, participate in team meetings, while everyone knows he's leaving. His colleagues avoid him, no longer include him in long-term projects. Fabien feels like a professional walking dead.

During these three months, Fabien looks for a new job. But when he tells recruiters he won't be available for three months, many prefer to move on to other candidates. Fabien finds himself in a race against time, with a major handicap.

Fabien's stress is constant. Every morning, he wakes up thinking: "Only 67 days left to endure." Every evening, he comes home wondering if he'll find something before the end of his notice period. This chronic stress affects his sleep, his concentration, his family relationships. His wife begins to worry seeing him so tense all the time. His children notice he's irritable at dinner. This low-intensity but constant stress wears Fabien down day after day, week after week.

Let's compare with Marc, an American developer who learns the same Monday that he's laid off. He gets two weeks' salary, cleans out his desk, says his goodbyes, and leaves the same day. The shock is brutal, certainly. Marc has a sleepless night, the stress is intense. But from the next day, he switches to "active search" mode. He has no choice, he must find something quickly.

This urgency galvanizes him. In one week, Marc has updated his resume, contacted his network, and applied to fifteen offers. The acute stress, although intense, pushes him to action. Three weeks later, he's found a new position. In retrospect, Marc thinks: "Actually, it went well. I was scared for a few days, but it's already in the past."

Humans aren't made to endure chronic low-intensity stress. Our nervous system is designed to handle intense but brief stress peaks - like fleeing a predator or hunting prey. Chronic stress, even mild, exhausts our mental and physical reserves. It causes anxiety, depression, sleep disorders, and health problems. Acute stress mobilizes our resources and disappears once the ordeal is over.

The Trap of Unemployment Benefits

Let's return to Fabien. After his three months of notice, he's entitled to unemployment benefits of €1,800 per month. He finds an opportunity at a startup that offers €2,200 per month. Should he accept to earn €400 more, or stay unemployed to look for better?

Fabien hesitates. With transportation and meal costs, he'd only earn €200 more by working. Is it worth it? He decides to wait and refuses the offer. Three months later, he finds a position at €2,500. But meanwhile, he's cost society €5,400 (3 months × €1,800) and lost three months of professional experience.

Marc accepts the first decent position he finds. He gains experience, expands his network, and continues looking for better in parallel. Six months later, he's found an excellent position and has progressed professionally.

The Aberration of Probationary Periods

Eight Months in Uncertainty

Let's follow Léa's journey, a developer who changes companies every two years to advance her career. She has four months of probationary period, renewable once. In practice, all companies automatically renew: it costs nothing and avoids bad surprises.

Léa thus finds herself with eight months of probationary period. During these eight months, she can be fired overnight, without notice, without compensation. She has no job security, but endures all the constraints of permanent contracts: long recruitment process, difficulty negotiating salary, etc.

Over a twenty-year career, changing every two years, Léa will spend eight years in probationary periods. Eight years out of twenty without any job security, in a system supposed to guarantee this security. The irony is complete.

During these eight months, Léa lives in uncertainty. She doesn't dare take a mortgage, hesitates to commit to long-term projects. Paradoxically, she's more stressed than a freelancer who knows exactly where he stands.

Conclusion

These concrete examples illustrate a reality: the CDI, despite its laudable intentions, creates more problems than it solves. Sarah loses time and money in endless recruitment processes. Julien sees his team's productivity collapse without being able to react. Céline gives up professional evolution. Alexandre loses €30,000 per year to parasitic intermediaries. Fabien lives three months of psychological hell.

All these dysfunctions have a cost: for individuals who see their careers and salaries capped, for companies that lose competitiveness, for society that wastes considerable resources.

This analysis doesn't advocate for precariousness, but for a system based on responsibility and merit. Human fulfillment comes from independence and the ability to be rewarded for one's efforts. When you work poorly, you must assume the consequences. When you excel, you must be able to quickly reap the fruits.

The CDI breaks this natural logic: it protects mediocrity and slows excellence. A more flexible system would allow everyone to take their career in hand, to be master of their professional destiny. Those who invest themselves could change companies easily to obtain better conditions. Those who lower their performance would be encouraged to pull themselves together rather than settle into the comfort of immovability.

Humans prosper when they're responsible for their choices and their consequences. Other countries have understood this and found a balance between flexibility and safety net. It's time for France to open this debate without taboo, because our economic competitiveness and the fulfillment of millions of French people depend on it.