“Not a Good Fit”: Ageism at Work and the Myth of the Ideal Employee

 It often starts with a phrase that sounds harmless enough.

“Not a good fit.”
“Looking for new energy.”
“Time to bring in fresh ideas.”

These words rarely appear in policy manuals, but they echo through workplaces every day. They’re heard in job postings, performance reviews, and hallway conversations. And for many older workers, they signal the beginning of a slow, quiet exit.

In today’s workplaces, ageism rarely announces itself openly. Instead, it shows up through practices sometimes called quiet firing or silent layoffs, strategies which nudge older employees toward resignation without the organization having to say the uncomfortable part out loud.

Sam knows this pattern well.

For years, Sam had been a model employee. Strong evaluations. Reliable performance. Deep knowledge of the organization and its people. Then, in his late fifties, something shifted. His annual review was mostly positive, but this time it included several pointed criticisms about “choices” he was making. Nothing dramatic. Nothing specific enough to respond to easily.

The message wasn’t written down, but it was clear: do better, or else.

After years of positive feedback, the possibility of being placed on a Performance Improvement Plan suddenly hovered in the background. These plans are often framed as supportive, but many older workers recognize them for what they can become: unrealistic expectations, vague goals, and insufficient support, designed less to improve performance and more to create a paper trail.

Sam hadn’t changed. The workplace had.

Then there’s Terry.

Terry works in a competitive industry that prides itself on innovation and continuous learning. On paper, the company does everything right. Training opportunities are encouraged. Professional development is funded. Staying current is valued.

But Terry noticed something over time. She was being overlooked.

Younger colleagues with less experience were offered training, mentorship, and advancement opportunities. Terry, despite her track record and institutional knowledge, was quietly bypassed. No one told her she wasn’t eligible. She simply wasn’t considered.

This kind of exclusion is subtle, but its impact is profound. When development opportunities flow toward youth by default, experience is treated as a finished product rather than an evolving asset.

I saw echoes of this when I was still working. I heard younger managers talk about the need for “new blood” and “fresh ideas.” I was asked more than once about my retirement plans, often framed as casual curiosity rather than pressure.

I didn’t ignore those comments. I responded.

I pointed out the contributions older workers were making every day. I reminded them that when experienced employees leave, they don’t just take a job opening with them; they take relationships, context, and collective memory. They take lessons learned the hard way. They take the ability to see patterns others haven’t lived long enough to recognize.

This is where the concept of crystallized intelligence matters.

Crystallized intelligence refers to the knowledge, skills, and judgment accumulated over time. It includes emotional regulation, problem-solving in complex situations, and the ability to navigate organizational dynamics with nuance. It’s not a consolation prize for declining speed. It’s a competitive advantage.

Yet many organizations undervalue it because it doesn’t fit the myth of the ideal employee, fast, endlessly adaptable, and unburdened by history. In chasing that myth, workplaces lose balance. Teams become reactive rather than thoughtful. Mistakes repeat. Mentorship disappears.

Ageism at work harms individuals, but it also damages organizations. Quiet firing erodes trust. Overlooking experienced workers weakens succession planning. And pushing people out prematurely creates instability that no amount of “fresh ideas” can fix.

The tragedy is that most of this happens without open conversation. Older workers are left to interpret signals, manage anxiety, and decide whether to fight or leave. Many choose to go quietly, convinced it’s better than being labeled resistant or obsolete.

But it doesn’t have to be this way.

Workplaces that thrive across generations recognize that learning flows both directions. They invest in development at every stage of a career. They value experience not as a relic, but as a resource. They ask older workers what they want next instead of assuming they’re winding down.

Ageism at work isn’t always about forcing people out. Often, it’s about failing to imagine them staying in meaningful ways.

And when organizations do that, everyone loses, not just the people shown the door, but the culture left behind when experience walks out with it.