The tech industry is going through it right now.
Layoffs are landing across the sector, at companies of every size and vertical, at every level of seniority. People who were high performers, settled, valued, experienced are suddenly back on the market. I know, because I’m one of them.
When that happens, the instinct is to move fast. Update the CV. Fire off applications. Say yes to the first thing that looks promising because uncertainty is uncomfortable and momentum feels like safety.
I’ve done that before. It doesn’t work.
This time, I did something different. Before I sent a single application, I wrote a personal manifesto.
What a manifesto is not
It’s not a mission statement. It’s not a list of goals. It’s not a personal brand document or a LinkedIn “about” section dressed up in life coach language.
A manifesto, in this context, is a record of what you know to be true about yourself. It’s a deeply personal document, not to necessarily share with anyone, but to hold yourself accountable and motivated for the right reasons. It’s what you need from work, what you will not compromise on, what kind of environment will bring out the best in you, and what kind will slowly (or quickly) erode you.
It’s the document you read before an interview to remind yourself that you are also interviewing them. It’s the thing you return to when a role is exciting on paper and you can feel yourself getting swept up in it, and you need to ask whether it actually fits.
It’s not motivational. It’s grounding.
Why it matters more right now
When you’re in a transition, especially an involuntary one like a redundancy, health challenge or family change, your sense of self is fragile in ways you might not notice immediately.
You start to negotiate with yourself.
“Maybe I’m being too picky.”
“Maybe I should just take something to get back in the room.”
“Maybe this culture isn’t ideal but I can make it work.”
That’s the moment the manifesto earns its place.
Because the pressure to say yes to the wrong thing is highest precisely when your confidence is lowest or fears compounded. And without something concrete to hold onto, it’s very easy to end up somewhere that looks fine from the outside but will work against you on the inside.
I’ve written about this in What do you actually want? and Slowing down, slowly. The short version: I have a health condition that responds directly to stress. That makes “just taking something” not just professionally unwise but physically costly. I have a lot of experience in technical and non-technical roles and I want both in my next role. I need flexibility and a team around me I can trust. I need career progression and support. A manifesto isn’t optional for me.
But you don’t need a health condition, layoff or life altering event to need one. You just need to have been somewhere that wasn’t right for you and felt it in your body before your brain caught up.
What goes in it
I’ll share the structure I used at the end of this post as a downloadable template. But here’s the principle behind it.
A manifesto is built around a few core questions, answered honestly rather than aspirationally. I used AI chat to ask me these questions in an interview style before I built my manifesto. It helped me answer honestly and encouraged me to think deeper into the “Why?” behind the answers I wrote back.
What do you need from work to function well? Not what sounds good. What is actually true. Some people need autonomy. Some people need close collaboration. Some people need clear structure. Some need to be building something from scratch. None of these are better than others, but being in an environment that runs against your grain costs you energy every single day.
What are your non-negotiables? These are the things you will not compromise on, even when the salary is good and the job description is compelling. For me, one of them is my health. I know that certain environments will make me unwell. That goes in. High level, no need for detail, but named explicitly so I cannot quietly forget it when something shiny comes along.
What does belonging look like for you? I wrote about this in the last post. The best environment I’ve worked in wasn’t necessarily the most prestigious. It was one where I could walk in each day as myself, and that was enough. Knowing that clearly means I can ask better questions in every interview process, and recognise faster when something doesn’t feel right.
What is your thread? The real reason you do what you do, underneath the titles and the CV narrative. For me, it’s this:
I find the hard problem. I build the thing. I make it work at scale. Then I move on to the next hard problem.
Once you name that, you stop taking roles that don’t contain it, and you stop having to justify the ones that do.
What do you commit to yourself? This is the section that feels slightly strange to write and turns out to be the most useful. A small set of promises. Not to take a role because it looks impressive if the culture doesn’t hold up. To ask hard questions, not just answer them. To protect the things that keep you well.
How to use it
Write it once. Then read it back at the start of every interview process, not just the first one.
The reason for the second part: interview processes are designed, often unintentionally, to make you want the job more the longer you’re in them. You invest time. You prepare. You start to picture yourself there. By the final round, you want it. And wanting it makes it harder to assess clearly.
The manifesto is the counterweight. Not to make you cynical or disengaged, but to keep the original questions live. Does this role have the thing I’m looking for? Is this culture one I can thrive in? Am I saying yes to this for the right reasons?
It doesn’t have to be long. Mine fits on a few pages. The length is not the point. Honesty is the point.
The template
I’ve put together a simple downloadable version on GitHub Pages below so you can build your own. It’s structured around the questions above, with space to answer each one in your own words. There are no right answers. The only requirement is that you write what’s actually true, not what you think you should say.
Download the manifesto template
If you’re in a transition right now, or watching the industry and wondering when it might affect you, I hope this is useful. Not as a productivity hack or a framework to optimise. Just as a way of staying anchored to what you actually want, when everything around you is uncertain.
The market will settle. The right role will come. The question is whether you’ll recognise it when it does.
Bek Kulidzan is a Senior Product, Partnerships and Solutions leader currently based in the UK. She writes about career, health, and building things from scratch. Find her on LinkedIn or X.