What I Hear in My Treatment Room: Is AI Quietly Ageing Us Out of the Workplace?

Now, before anyone gets their knickers in a twist, this isn't an HR article.

I'm not an HR expert.

I'm a skin therapist.

But I have spent over 30 years sitting in a treatment room listening to people from all walks of life tell me what's going on in their lives.

And when you see 10, 11 or sometimes 12 people a day, you hear an awful lot.

You hear about marriages, divorces, children, grandchildren, health, money, work, bosses, colleagues, redundancies, promotions, office politics and, occasionally, what someone really thinks about their manager — which probably shouldn't be repeated outside my treatment room!

But over the last year or so, I've noticed something coming up again and again.

Recruitment.

And it's made me start wondering whether something quite significant is changing in the workplace.

So, rather than keep thinking about it while I'm removing someone's skin tag, I thought I'd write about it.

Because I genuinely want to know what other people are seeing.

So, what's happening with recruitment?

I have quite a few clients who own businesses, manage companies or work in HR. Some work for huge global organisations, others run smaller businesses.

And I'm hearing some interesting things.

A number of them are saying they are receiving applications predominantly from younger people.

But it's not just that younger people are applying.

It's that younger applicants seem to be making it through to interview more often.

Now, I don't think this is about young people being the problem.

There are some incredibly talented, hard-working, bright young people coming through, and I've got plenty of younger clients who absolutely know their stuff.

Every generation brings something different to the table.

The problem, I think, is when we start assuming that one generation has all the answers — because it doesn't.

And perhaps we've forgotten that a workplace works best when different generations actually learn from each other, rather than quietly sitting in opposite corners thinking, "Honestly, what is wrong with them?"

Because some of the stories I'm hearing are making me raise an eyebrow.

One employer told me that some younger candidates arrived at interviews and barely made eye contact.

Another told me that people were applying for jobs where the job description clearly explained what was required — only to get to interview and say they couldn't, or wouldn't, do certain parts of the job.

And apparently sometimes the response is along the lines of:

"Well, could the role be changed to suit me?"

Erm…

You applied for the job.

The job description wasn't exactly written in invisible ink.

Now, perhaps I'm old-fashioned, but when I was younger, if someone offered me a job, I didn't immediately ask them to redesign it around my personal requirements.

I was generally just bloody grateful someone had given me one!

And yes, I appreciate the world has changed.

Workplace expectations have changed.

We understand much more about mental health, anxiety, neurodiversity, burnout and the importance of having a healthy work environment — and that is a good thing.

But somewhere along the line, I think we've got to be careful that supporting people doesn't become the same thing as removing every expectation from them.

Because work is still work.

There are responsibilities.

There are difficult customers.

There are boring meetings.

There are days when you really don't want to be there but you turn up anyway.

And occasionally there are colleagues you'd happily launch into space…

…but perhaps that's just me.

And then there's the other side of the story…

Because while I'm hearing about younger people getting through the recruitment process, I'm also hearing from women in their 50s and 60s who are struggling to get through it at all.

And this is the bit that really bothers me.

I know women in their 50s and 60s who have enormous amounts of experience.

Teachers.

Managers.

Marketing professionals.

Women who have worked for huge companies.

Women who have managed teams, budgets, projects and people.

Women who have spent decades building careers.

And many of them have done all of that while raising children.

Let's just stop there for a minute.

Because raising a family while working isn't exactly sitting around eating biscuits and watching daytime television.

It's organising.

It's multitasking.

It's managing deadlines.

It's dealing with emergencies.

It's negotiating.

It's problem-solving.

It's working when you're exhausted.

It's remembering 47 things at once.

And somehow knowing that the one thing you've forgotten is always the thing someone is going to ask you about.

These women have also worked through decades when the workplace wasn't nearly as accommodating to women as it is now.

Many had to prove themselves in male-dominated environments.

They worked bloody hard.

And quite a few of them were very successful.

Yet now I'm hearing from women who've been made redundant, or who want to change jobs, who are applying for new positions and getting nowhere.

They spend hours tailoring their CV.

They read the job description.

They make sure they use the right words.

They tick all the boxes.

They submit the application.

And then…

Ten minutes later:

"We're sorry, but on this occasion your application has not been successful."

TEN MINUTES.

You couldn't have even boiled an egg in that time.

Which makes some of us wonder:

Did a human actually read it?

Or did a computer?

And that brings me to the question I keep coming back to.

Is AI changing who gets through the door?

I don't know.

And I'm not pretending I do.

But I am wondering whether automated recruitment systems and AI-powered screening could be unintentionally filtering out experienced candidates before a human being ever gets the chance to see them.

Could technology designed to make recruitment quicker and more efficient actually be creating — or amplifying — a different kind of bias?

Including age bias?

I'm not saying it is.

I'm asking whether we should be looking at it.

Because if a woman with 30 years of experience can spend hours creating an application and be rejected by a system within minutes, without anyone ever having a conversation with her, that doesn't feel particularly fair.

And here's the irony.

We're being told we're expected to work until we're 67.

Fine.

But what happens when you're made redundant at 55 or 58 and can't get another job?

You've got another 10 years or more before retirement, but suddenly your experience seems to be working against you.

This is the generation that was told:

Work hard. Pay your mortgage. Save for the future. Get your pension sorted. You'll be alright.

Well…

We're not entirely convinced about that bit anymore.

Apparently, we're dinosaurs

There's another thing I hear quite a lot.

"Older people are stuck in their ways."

"They don't understand technology."

"They can't keep up."

Really?

Because I'm nearly 60 and I think my generation deserves a little more credit.

When I was at school, we had a computer in the school library.

And I'm pretty sure we got about five minutes on it a week.

Five minutes.

You weren't exactly going home and building an app afterwards.

And yet somehow…

We adapted.

We went from paper diaries to computers.

From letters to email.

From encyclopaedias to Google.

From landlines to mobile phones.

From buttons to smartphones.

From paper maps to Sat Nav

From cash and cheques to online banking.

From booking appointments over the phone to online booking systems.

From face-to-face meetings to Zoom.

And now we're using AI.

We didn't have a choice.

Technology changed, so we changed with it.

So perhaps we're not quite the dinosaurs people think we are.

Maybe we're more like dinosaurs with Wi-Fi.

And yes, we might occasionally need someone younger to explain why something on the computer isn't working.

But I guarantee there are plenty of things they could ask us about too.

Because experience still counts

I'm not saying older people know everything.

Believe me, I know they don't.

I've made enough mistakes in 40 years to fill several books.

And experience doesn't mean you automatically get everything right.

But it does mean you've probably seen a few things.

You've dealt with difficult people.

You've handled complaints.

You've made mistakes and learnt from them.

You've managed crises.

You've had to think on your feet.

You've probably learnt that not every problem requires a dramatic reaction.

And you've probably learnt that sometimes the best thing you can do in a meeting is listen.

Which brings me nicely to meetings.

Because I hear from quite a few of my male clients about how ridiculous some of their meetings are.

Apparently they're surrounded by idiots who don't agree with them.

There are meetings about meetings.

Meetings about what happened in the last meeting.

Meetings about what might happen in the next meeting.

And occasionally, apparently, a meeting where everyone talks about how busy they are instead of actually doing any work.

I'm sure none of you recognise that.

And then I hear:

"We've got a woman in now and she's vicious."

So I ask:

"Why is she vicious?"

And the answer is usually something along the lines of:

"She keeps asking me what I actually do."

Well…

Sorry.

But that doesn't sound vicious to me.

That sounds like management.

She's trying to work out who does what, where the gaps are, why things aren't getting done and why everyone seems to be permanently in a meeting.

Perhaps she's not vicious.

Perhaps she's just asking awkward questions.

And let's be honest, sometimes awkward questions are exactly what you need.

And before anyone thinks this is a man-bashing article…

It isn't.

I've got plenty of lovely male clients.

And plenty of men who are fantastic managers, brilliant colleagues and genuinely supportive of women.

I'm talking about the stories I hear.

Just as I'm talking about the stories I hear about younger workers.

This isn't men versus women.

It isn't young versus old.

And it certainly isn't me saying one generation is better than another.

Because it isn't.

Now let's talk about menopause…

Because here's another thing we need to acknowledge.

Yes.

Women in their 50s and 60s can sometimes get brain fog.

I know I do.

You walk into a room and immediately think:

"Why the bloody hell am I in here?"

You put something somewhere "really safe"…

…and then spend the next three days looking for it.

You start a sentence.

You know exactly what you were going to say.

Then your brain decides to go on holiday.

And yes, we might occasionally be a little more grumpy.

Although, after decades of juggling work, children, partners, parents, households, bills, deadlines, hormones and everybody else's problems…

perhaps we're allowed a little bloody grumpiness.

But here's the important bit.

We are still relevant.

We still have skills.

We still have knowledge.

We still have ideas.

We still have experience.

We still have plenty to give.

And this is where I think we need to apply the same thinking to menopausal women that we're increasingly applying to younger generations.

We're becoming much more understanding about young people's mental health.

We're talking about anxiety.

We're talking about burnout.

We're talking about neurodiversity.

We're talking about flexible working and giving people support when they're struggling.

And I think that's brilliant.

But why don't we apply some of that same understanding to women going through menopause?

If a younger employee says:

"I'm struggling. I'm exhausted. I'm finding things difficult and I need some support."

We quite rightly ask:

"How can we help?"

But if a woman in her 50s says:

"I'm exhausted. I haven't slept properly for months. I'm struggling to concentrate and I'm not feeling like myself."

Is she sometimes seen as difficult?

Past her best?

Not quite up to the job anymore?

Maybe she doesn't need throwing away.

Maybe she needs a bit of understanding.

Because experience doesn't disappear because your hormones change.

What if we stopped making it a competition?

A 25-year-old shouldn't be expected to know what someone with 30 years' experience knows.

But someone with 30 years' experience shouldn't be expected to know everything a 25-year-old knows either.

And that's the point.

The younger generation can teach the older generation about new technology, social media, new ways of working and things that sometimes make us go:

"What the bloody hell is that?"

And the older generation can teach the younger generation how to deal with a difficult customer, negotiate, manage a crisis, handle pressure, read a room…

…and occasionally recognise that the meeting really could have been an email.

That's how it should work.

We learn from each other.

Because youth isn't automatically better than experience.

And experience isn't automatically better than youth.

They're just different.

And if we put them together properly, they can be bloody brilliant.

And perhaps we could all learn a little respect

Because that's what worries me most.

Not age.

Not technology.

Not AI.

The lack of respect.

We've become very good at putting people into boxes.

Too young.

Too old.

Too experienced.

Not experienced enough.

Too expensive.

Too traditional.

Too difficult.

Too menopausal.

Too different.

And perhaps, while we're busy putting everyone into categories, we've forgotten something rather important.

They're people.

People who have skills.

People who have lives.

People who have something to contribute.

And people who might actually be able to teach each other something.

Experience doesn't mean you know everything.

And being young doesn't mean you know nothing.

Although knowing when to keep your mouth shut does matter too.

And if I'm being completely honest…

I haven't quite mastered that one yet, as you're probably aware. 😂

So this is why I started writing this

I started writing this because these conversations keep coming up in my treatment room.

I'm hearing from employers who are struggling to recruit the right people.

I'm hearing about younger candidates with very different expectations of work.

I'm hearing from experienced women who are struggling to get interviews despite decades of knowledge.

I'm hearing about redundancy, automated rejection emails and people wondering whether anyone has actually looked at their CV.

And I'm hearing women asking:

"Am I suddenly too old?"

And I don't think that's a question we should be comfortable with.

So I'm asking the question rather than pretending I have all the answers.

Is the way we're recruiting changing?

Are we accidentally filtering out experience?

Is AI helping recruitment become fairer — or could it be creating a new kind of bias?

Are we supporting younger workers in ways we could also support older workers?

And perhaps most importantly…

Are we losing something when we stop valuing experience?

Because we're going to need every generation.

The 25-year-old.

The 40-year-old.

The 55-year-old.

The 65-year-old.

Different skills.

Different experiences.

Different perspectives.

All valuable.

And maybe the answer isn't to choose one over the other.

Maybe it's to stop trying to make it young versus old and start asking:

What can you bring to the table?

What can I bring to the table?

And what can we learn from each other?

Because we're not dinosaurs.

We've just been around long enough to remember when dinosaurs were actually the latest thing.

And we're still not finished yet.

So, I'm genuinely interested…

What are you seeing in your workplace?

Are experienced people struggling to get through recruitment?

Are younger applicants approaching work differently?

If you're an employer or work in HR, are automated recruitment systems helping you find the right people — or sometimes filtering out people who deserve a conversation?

I'd really love to hear what you think.

And actually, I've just had another thought…

Maybe I should do an evening for all of you!

Get the younger ones, the older ones, the employers, the employees, the menopausal women, the men who think everyone else in the meeting is an idiot…

…all in one room.

You could meet each other.

You could talk.

You could swap stories.

You could perhaps learn from each other.

And who knows?

Maybe we could solve some of these bloody problems over a glass of wine.

Although knowing my clients, we'd probably spend the first 20 minutes talking about our skin, someone's husband and whether we're getting enough sleep.

But hey…

It's a start. 😂