Autodesk’s recent layoffs were nothing short of a disaster. While the company tried to frame it as a “strategic reset,” the reality for many of us who were impacted was chaotic, insensitive, and disheartening.
Entire departments were let go with little regard for how critical tools, processes, and business knowledge would be transitioned—because, in many cases, they weren’t. No thoughtful handoffs, no ownership plans, just a scramble that left remaining employees confused and overwhelmed. Leadership claimed there would be “hundreds of new roles” opening for those laid off to apply to. That was false. In the U.S., there were barely any. Most of us had no real path to stay even if we wanted to.
To make matters worse, Autodesk attempted to ease their guilt by offering outsourced “career support” services. These resources were nearly useless—generic templates, uninformed guidance, and a clear lack of personal investment. It felt like a checkbox to make the company feel better, not a meaningful effort to help us land on our feet.
Many of us were asked for proof of laptop returns even after confirming shipments months earlier. The communication breakdown was insulting and just added to the feeling that Autodesk didn’t care enough to manage the exit process with integrity. To make it even more frustrating, some leaders acted clueless about the decisions—pretending to be surprised or unaware, when we knew they were fully in the loop.
What Autodesk showed us is that for all the talk of values and innovation, when things got tough, they chose confusion over clarity, and image over empathy. I would caution anyone considering working here: take a hard look at how a company handles its people when it matters most. In this case, Autodesk failed.
