Taha Hussain's Linkedin Analytics

Your best engineer just canceled another 1:1. “Something urgent came up,” she said. Again. But nothing urgent came up. She just realized your meeting isn’t worth her time. It didn’t happen overnight. First, she offered ideas. You nodded politely, then ignored them. Then she questioned priorities. You thanked her, then changed nothing. Now she smiles. Says nothing. And quietly refreshes LinkedIn between builds. Check your calendar. Every canceled 1:1 is a resignation letter in draft mode. Here’s how I finally stopped my engineers from quitting quietly: https://lnkd.in/gwXXeuK5

The best people don’t leave for money. They leave when the signal-to-noise ratio gets bad. 🚩 Too many priorities. Nothing feels important. 🚩 Too many meetings. No time for deep work. 🚩 Too much bureaucracy. Every decision is a battle. They joined to build. They leave when everything gets in the way of that. You don’t keep great people by offering perks. You keep them by protecting their focus. Fewer distractions. Fewer roadblocks. Fewer reasons to wonder, "Why am I still here?" Because when noise goes up, talent walks out. I’ve been there. I saw my best engineers check out long before they resigned. So I made three changes—and they did more than just stop the exits. Read about them here: https://lnkd.in/gsST65Ud What’s one thing making it harder for your team to focus right now?

I once saw two engineers go toe-to-toe in a code review. Not passive-aggressive Slack comments. Not side-eye in retros. I mean 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡-𝙫𝙤𝙡𝙪𝙢𝙚. Hands raised. Voices tight. Two engineers about to throw down—all because of one forgotten null check. By lunchtime? They were sitting across from each other—sharing pizza, laughing about a bug they’d both ignored for a week. No manager stepped in. No HR ticket. No “let’s take this offline” deflection. Just two engineers who stayed in the fire— and walked out burned, but better. Most people think conflict needs a referee. Sometimes, it just needs permission. To get mad. To care loudly. To stop filtering your honesty into something safe. Yes, it might get messy. It might get loud. And yeah—it might even feel like sh*t hit the fan. And it might. But that’s how strong teams are forged. Not through comfort. Through pressure. Not by keeping the room calm. But by keeping the door open—especially when it’s hot. Don’t protect the team from the heat. Teach them how to walk through it.

The best engineers on LinkedIn are hiding in plain sight. No personal branding. No viral threads. No hot takes. They're too busy doing something more valuable: Becoming better. You'll find them in the comments, asking: → "Where did you learn that pattern?" → "How did you handle that edge case?" → "Can you explain that system design again?" While others hunt for burnout stories, they hunt for gaps to fill. The best teachers aren't the ones with 68K followers. They're the ones who stay curious.

We call them “soft” skills so we can ignore who’s doing the hard work. The calming voice in the tense meeting. The one who rewrites the angry message before it’s sent. The one who stays after the standup because someone looked off. That’s not soft. That’s load-bearing. But we don’t track it. We don’t promote for it. We don’t even say thank you. And yet — it’s the reason the team still works. Most of this labor is emotional. And most of it is invisible. Carried quietly by the most stable person in the room. The one who doesn’t break. The one who holds the line. The one we keep turning to — without noticing we’re doing it. So if that’s you: I see it. If it’s not you: maybe look around. Because every team has someone holding the center. — Join 8000+ brilliant minds reading my weekly newsletter, The Conscious Leader, cultivating skills for modern leadership: https://lnkd.in/g3J25k5w And they’re tired.

An Engineering Director hired me to prep him for an M2 role at Meta. He didn’t get it. Not even M1. On paper, he was perfect. • Scaled systems • Managed managers • Hit every target • Told every story by the book So what went wrong? It wasn’t his answers. It wasn’t his architecture. It wasn’t his delivery. A leadership blind spot—hidden inside his success. Startups reward it. Big tech exposes it. And it cracked open with one question. Just one. Read it here: https://lnkd.in/gWZDgcf5

The most dangerous person in a technical org? The one who delivers every sprint and leaves the team a little dumber each time. They don’t yell. They don’t break things. They don’t miss deadlines. They just quietly hoard knowledge, over-optimize for speed, and “help” by doing it all themselves. By the time you notice, the team’s running perfectly — straight off a cliff. Because high output isn’t high leverage. And “just let me fix it” isn’t greatness. It’s a slow-motion failure disguised as competence. — Join 8000+ brilliant minds reading my weekly newsletter, The Conscious Leader, cultivating skills for modern leadership: https://lnkd.in/g3J25k5w

When I was a Sr. Engineer, I used to write essays in every PR. I defended every pattern. Pushed back on every deviation. People called me “thorough.” Then one day, a quiet engineer pulled me aside and asked: “Are you helping or just showing off?” That line split me open. I realized I wasn’t protecting quality. I was protecting my ego. I slowed the team down. Created tension no one talked about. Made collaboration harder than it needed to be. Since then? I ask more. Comment less. Unblock fast. Trust quicker. Because the best senior engineers don’t make themselves the center of gravity. They clear the runway and get the hell out of the way. — Join 8000+ brilliant minds reading my weekly newsletter, The Conscious Leader, cultivating skills for modern leadership: https://lnkd.in/g3J25k5w

Why do some engineers fail to climb the $250K - $1M+ ladder? They focus on tools vs. growth. If you're a software engineer ... And you highlight: → The certifications you've earned → The technical stacks you've worked with → The latest programming languages you know I understand how you qualify for the job... but no hiring manager understands how you'd elevate their team. Because teams are made up of humans with goals. To climb the $250K, $350K, $500K, $800K & 1M+ ladder, show: → How you've led projects to success → How you've mentored others to grow → How you've added value beyond code → How you've adapted to industry shifts → How you've overcome engineering challenges → How your skills align with the company's vision → How you bridge the gap between tech and business This builds trust. This showcases adaptability. This communicates LEADERSHIP. ... even before your first interview. Drop the tool talk. Talk about the transformative impact you bring. — I coach my clients to speak authentically in their interviews using the LESSON framework. Get it here: https://lnkd.in/g-2kxHwB

On my first day at Microsoft, I didn’t even finish my sentence before I was shut down. "Whatever you want, the answer is no." Fight back? Risk making an enemy? Walk away and lose respect? When I joined in 2016, Microsoft was under Satya Nadella—but the cutthroat culture from the pre-Satya era still lingered. It was a gladiator pit where backstabbing wasn’t just common—it was the daily special. Trust? Forget it. Collaboration? A joke. Survival? Non-negotiable. Most new hires were either chewed up or joined the game. But I had a different plan. I didn’t fight harder—I took notes. By flipping the system on its head, I not only survived—I thrived. And along the way, I learned how to turn office enemies into allies, earning the nickname: "People Whisperer." If you’re stuck in a toxic workplace, you can thrive too—even when the knives are out. I break it all down in: How to Survive (And Thrive) in a Toxic Workplace. Read it here: https://lnkd.in/g5Fqj_uZ

If you’re the top performer on your team but you're still: – being interrupted in meetings – passed over for higher roles – asked to “just help out” after the decision was made Then let me say this, clearly: You trained them to underestimate you. You said yes to too much. You played nice. You carried the weight but gave away the credit. And now? They don’t see a genius. They see someone who gets sh*t done quietly. Here’s what they’ll never say out loud: They like you invisible. Useful. Non-threatening. Replaceable. If you want to change that? Stop softening your voice to protect their ego. Stop letting mediocre voices dominate the room. Stop waiting for your turn like someone’s coming to tap your shoulder. You're not being overlooked because you're not ready. You're being overlooked because you made it easy. Change the story. Claim the spotlight. Lead technical standards before you’re invited. And if you’re ready, start here → https://lnkd.in/gMGfmVas You earned the influence. Now make sure they feel every inch of it.

At Microsoft, a junior engineer spent 3 days solving a simple caching issue. Her manager knew he could do it in 10 minutes. But he didn't. Do the math. Most leaders would have jumped in. Solved it fast. Moved on. But fast solutions come at a hidden cost: Growth debt. Every time you step in, you rob your team of the lessons they need to grow. Over time, that debt compounds. Engineers stop thinking for themselves. The team relies on you to ship. Growth slows to a crawl. The best engineering leaders don’t write the best code. They code the best culture. Next time your fingers itch to jump in, ask yourself: Are you fixing the problem or adding to your team’s debt? There’s more to this story that I wrote about in my article: “Most engineering leaders die defending the wrong hill.” Read it here: https://lnkd.in/gpCq-7XY

I once had a manager who refused open-door policies. But he believed in something riskier: The Last 5% Rule. After a big project, he pulled me aside. Asked for feedback on his leadership. I mumbled some polite praise. He didn’t flinch. Just smiled and said, “That’s 95% of what you’re thinking. But it’s the last 5% that’ll help me grow. What are you holding back?” I froze. The last 5%? The part you know but never say? That felt dangerous. I wasn’t ready that day, so he gave me homework: “Write down what’s hard to say. We’ll revisit it.” Years later, as a manager, I learned: Leadership demands brutal awareness. And your team watches you more closely than your boss ever did. So, I stole the 5% rule. My 1:1s are empty without it. Most leaders don’t dare to ask for that 5%. They’re too scared of what they’ll hear. Be the leader who’s brave enough to ask. But more importantly, be brave enough to say it. — Join 7000+ brilliant minds reading my weekly newsletter, The Conscious Leader, cultivating skills for modern leadership: https://lnkd.in/g3J25k5w

Your engineers don’t respect you. Not because you don’t code anymore. Not because you aren’t the smartest person in the room. But because you don’t protect them. You let product pile on last-minute scope. You force them into pointless meetings. You make them rush, then blame them for tech debt. And worst of all? You expect them to be "passionate" about it. You didn’t build a team. You built survivors. And survivors don’t innovate. They escape. They leave leaders who feed them to the wolves. You want their respect? 1. Fight for sane deadlines. 2. Say no when it matters. 3. Shield them from the corporate meat grinder so they can do what they do best—build. If your best engineers seem “disengaged,” stop asking what’s wrong with them. Start asking what’s wrong with you. I once asked that question and it changed the way I lead my teams. Read about my 3 steps here: https://lnkd.in/giPKU8Ry

This guy went through 14 months of hell and landed a jackpot. First, the compensation is $416K. Second, the perks are designed to fight burnout. Back in January, Arjun was at $210K. Under 30. Married three years. Skilled. Respected. Stuck. He told me: “I want to grow my family.” “Buy a home.” “Hit $400K comp.” But nothing was moving. Not the calls. Not the momentum. We fixed that. The interviews started rolling. Right then, the monster showed up. It sounded like this: “DSA is useless.”  “I’ll do it, but I hate it.”  “It’s just puzzles for kids.” That’s imposter syndrome in a blazer. It doesn’t always say “I’m not good enough.” Sometimes it whispers, “This isn’t worth it.” Same fear. Just dressed for work. We named it. Then we got to work. Arjun started practicing 3 hours a day. Not because he loved it. Because he remembered what he wanted. Momentum built up.  Interviews lined up. Meta got interested. He passed the phone screen then... life collapsed. His grandmother passed away.  His father fell critically ill. He flew to India.  Missed interviews.  Bombed the Meta onsite. When he came back, his heart was in two countries. His head, in none. He said: “Maybe I should take a break from all this.” I heard the silence behind that sentence. And I said: “Maybe. Or maybe this year isn’t done with you yet.” A week later, Arjun came back swinging. Same schedule. Same grind. Less noise. Took more losses without letting them stick. Fast forward— He lands this:  • Fridays off — permanently • 4 weeks of company time off • 4 weeks personal leave • 3 weeks sick time • 16 weeks paternity leave • A leased Lexus And one last thing... Yesterday, Arjun called. “We bought the house and we’re expecting in November.” That’s the win. Not the comp. Not the title. That. He’s the 137th engineer I’ve coached to $400K+. Not everyone gets the Lexus.  But everyone meets the monster. And when it finally corners you—  when it hisses that it’s not your time—  that you’re not ready—  that it’s safer to wait— That’s the moment to speak. Because the monsters don’t leave. You just learn to speak louder. — I coach my clients to speak authentically in their interviews using the LESSON framework. Get it here: https://lnkd.in/g-2kxHwB

One of your engineers hesitates before pushing their code. Not because the code is broken. Because deep down, they think they are. You won’t catch it in the standups. You won’t see it in the code reviews. You won’t feel it in the way they smile and nod. But when they push that code? They’re holding their breath like it might kill someone. You say, "Good work." They say, "Thanks." They go home wondering how much longer they can fake it. Because somewhere along the way, they started believing their wins were accidents. You don’t fix that with compliments. You fix it with proof. → Show them the challenges they’ve already survived. → Let them teach what they think they barely know. → Remind them: the better you get, the bigger the fraud you feel like. Imposter syndrome doesn’t vanish with time. It dies with evidence. Give them some.

At Yahoo, my best engineer left long before he resigned. No drama. No complaints. No warnings. He still hit deadlines. Still showed up to standups. Still shipped code. But something had changed. No more debates over architecture. No more “Wait, is this the right approach?” No more pushback—just quiet nods. By the time the resignation letter landed on my desk, it was too late. I had already lost him. I didn’t see it coming. But once I did, I knew I had to fix it—before I lost anyone else. So I made three critical changes. And they did more than just stop quiet quitting. I break it all down in the article: 𝟯 𝗦𝘁𝗲𝗽𝘀 𝗜 𝗧𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝗦𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝗟𝗼𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗠𝘆 𝗕𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗘𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗿𝘀 Read it here: https://lnkd.in/gwXXeuK5

I once had a senior engineer who rarely spoke in meetings. Sharp as hell, but quiet. We assumed he was disengaged. Maybe even checked out. Then came the production outage. Multi-region failure. Chaos. While we were all scrambling—arguing root cause, arguing each other—he opened his laptop, stared at Grafana, made one change. Everything came back. No speech. No swagger. Just uptime. Later, over coffee, I asked why he never spoke up in those meetings. He shrugged: “You all had more to say. I was listening.” I think about that a lot—how we reward loud confidence, when what we often need is quiet competence. That’s why I built The Top Engineer Method. It has helped hundreds of engineers transform into senior engineers and higher. If that sounds like you, start here: https://lnkd.in/gbZHGtfe

The best engineers leave quietly. They stop pushing back. They stop debating ideas. They stop telling you when something is broken. And when they finally resign? It’s not a decision. It’s just the last step in a process that started months ago. I didn’t see the signs. I lost great people because of it. So I made three changes to fix this. They didn’t just stop the exits—they built a team that actually spoke up. Read them here: https://lnkd.in/gsST65Ud

You didn’t get laid off because you were bad at your job. You got laid off because someone needed to make the numbers work. When the cuts come, nobody gathers around a table to debate: • How hard you worked. • The loyalty you've shown. • The weekends you sacrificed. They ask: • Who costs the most? • Who’s the easiest to cut? • What number makes the balance sheet look right? One day, you're on the team. The next, you're on the list. No farewell. No gratitude. Just a reminder to return your laptop. So stop chasing job security. It doesn’t exist. What you need is career security: → Make your name impossible to erase. → Cultivate skills that travel wherever you go. → Build relationships before you need favors. Because when the axe swings, you won’t get a warning. Just a meeting invite. — If you want to effectively communicate your skills in the next interview—use this: https://lnkd.in/gr745qgN