“It completely shattered my confidence,” says Simon Gibbs. “I thought I was failing at everything. I felt useless and believed I had no value. It was horrendous.” Simon was made redundant four months before turning 50, and four years on, the emotional impact of that blow remains clear.
Rising employment costs, corporate reorganisations and, most significantly, the growing use of artificial intelligence to replace white-collar roles are leaving increasing numbers of men in their 40s and 50s without work.
In the past, many would have moved quickly into another position, perhaps even securing a promotion. Today, they are finding that getting another job at any level is far more difficult than expected. Vacancies are at their lowest level since 2014, apart from the Covid-disrupted figures of 2021, while there are 2.5 unemployed people competing for every available role. It is an exceptionally unforgiving jobs market.
Former fashion editor Stacey Duguid recently described in the Daily Mail how she and other women in midlife are struggling to return to work. Yet the figures suggest older men may be facing an even steeper challenge.
Office for National Statistics data shows that between June and August this year, 5.1 per cent of working-age men were seeking employment, compared with 4.3 per cent of working-age women.
For experienced professionals who have reached the height of their careers, the outlook can be especially grim. Redundancy programmes often hit older staff hardest because they are more likely to occupy higher-paid positions.
And for men such as Simon, who have traditionally been the principal earners in their families, losing a job can trigger a deep personal and emotional crisis.
Simon Gibbs began his job search with plenty of determination, but rejection after rejection followed
“Men often tie a huge part of their identity to their job title,” says midlife career coach Chris Perkins. “For people who have spent decades developing successful careers and building the skills and experience that made them experts, redundancy can be particularly difficult to process.”
When they apply for new roles, many also encounter what Perkins describes as “thinly disguised ageism”. He says the most frequent explanation for rejection is: “We think you’re overqualified.”
“I can’t think of many other situations where having more experience and offering greater value for the money would be treated as a disadvantage,” he says.
Some candidates are told they would struggle to fit into a younger team, might become bored or would leave once a more attractive opportunity appeared. Perkins says such assumptions are not supported by research, which indicates that midlife workers often have stronger engagement and remain in roles for longer.
With the state pension age now standing at 67, men who lose their jobs in their 50s may face many uncertain years ahead. Here, five men describe what happened to them.
As the family breadwinner, losing work made me question my purpose
Simon, now 54, joined HSBC at 18 and eventually became a director overseeing marketing and digital customer experience, earning £125,000 a year. Following a departmental restructure, he was asked to compete for his own position and ultimately accepted redundancy.
At first, he approached the search for a new job with enthusiasm. Then the rejections began to pile up.
“I applied for about 50 positions, but despite my experience I struggled to get beyond the initial stage,” says Simon, who lives in a four-bedroom semi-detached house in Burgh Heath, Surrey, with his partner Victoria, who runs a painting and decorating business, and their children Frankie, 11, and Emilia, seven. “The roles often seemed to match my skills perfectly, but it felt as if employers were looking for reasons not to appoint me.”
“It seemed obvious that there was an unspoken issue: my age. There was certainly a bias involved.”
Simon says he had reached a senior level but had no desire to become a chief executive. “Recruiters didn’t understand that. They want candidates who say they are desperate to keep climbing. Unless you pretend, they assume you lack ambition.”
He also wondered whether some hiring managers felt threatened by the possibility that he might be more capable than they were. “Even if that was happening, I wasn’t trying to take anyone’s job,” he says.
The continual rejection had a devastating effect. As the main provider for his family, Simon still had a mortgage and private school fees to meet. His savings began to fall, including money inherited from his late mother that he had intended to use for his children’s education.
“I felt as though my only purpose was to provide,” he says. “When I couldn’t do that, I started questioning what I was for.”
He eventually went to therapy and began exploring a different future. “During lockdown I had started buying and selling vintage toys for fun. I wondered whether my digital experience could help me turn that interest into a business,” he says.
His company, GibbsySimon Vintage Toys, now supplies collectibles to enthusiasts around the world. He has become what is known as an “involuntary entrepreneur” — someone pushed into self-employment after circumstances leave little choice.
The business covers the mortgage and household expenses, although Simon still needs to use some savings. “I miss the certainty of my former salary, but now I’m selling things to people who are genuinely delighted,” he says. “I never experienced that feeling in the corporate world.”
I never imagined I’d be a lodger claiming Universal Credit
Ian Taylor was already emotionally drained after separating from his wife in 2021. Then, last year, his working life was thrown into turmoil as well.
“Being unemployed and unable to afford a home makes the idea of starting another relationship very difficult,” says Ian Taylor
The two events combined to threaten the roof over his head. Ian moved out of the family home — a four-bedroom detached property in the Hampshire countryside that he had shared with his former wife and their two children — while it was put up for sale. As a temporary measure, he rented a room from a retired couple.
“I intended to use my share of the sale proceeds to buy somewhere of my own,” he says. “But I can’t do that now because I’m out of work.”
Ian, 56, spent 25 years in IT and worked as a senior software test analyst for companies including Hewlett-Packard and defence contractor Raytheon UK. After eight years with his latest employer, restructuring led to redundancy, although a former colleague offered him a short-term contract paying £600 a day.
That contract ended in October 2025. More than a year later, and after submitting at least 50 applications, Ian is still trying to find another position.
“I’ve attended four interviews, but none resulted in an offer. The constant rejection has damaged my self-esteem,” he says.
“I know many younger people are also unemployed, but it feels as though the Government is focusing on them and overlooking the slightly older generation. Sometimes I wonder whether men my age are viewed as pale, male and stale. Applications include boxes for various diversity categories, and I obviously can’t tick them. But I still have plenty to contribute.”
Ian is now receiving Universal Credit, which he describes as “humbling”. “I never imagined that at this stage of life I would be living as a lodger on the top floor of someone else’s home,” he says. “The couple have been wonderful, but it feels like being 18 again and returning from a night out, constantly worrying about disturbing them.”
He would like to find a new partner, but says his financial situation makes that difficult. “Being unemployed and unable to afford a home of my own doesn’t make starting another relationship easy.”
Rather than continue waiting for another IT role, Ian has started training to become a postman with Royal Mail. “It’s minimum wage, but I thought I needed to get back into employment, whatever the job,” he says.
The only work I could find was delivering groceries for Asda
After four decades in banking and an annual income approaching £100,000, Tony Moore, 59, now delivers Asda shopping for £13.20 an hour.
Unable to secure another role in his profession, he has chosen to keep working rather than wait indefinitely for a job that reflects his previous experience.
Tony Moore submitted between 10 and 20 job applications every month for a year — roughly 200 in total
“I haven’t been without work since I was 16,” says Tony, who lives in a three-bedroom detached house in Colchester, Essex, with his wife Joyce, who works in finance for a civil engineering company.
He started out at merchant bank Hill Samuel before managing departments at several other banks, including periods working in Hong Kong and Taiwan. He then spent 15 years as a self-employed IT contractor for major financial institutions such as HSBC, Barclays and Santander.
His final permanent role was at a financial technology firm, where he earned more than £98,000 annually. After 18 months, he negotiated a severance deal and left in October last year, expecting to find another banking position.
Over the following year he applied for between 10 and 20 jobs each month — approximately 200 in total. At least three-quarters of those applications received no response, while the rest mostly ended in rejection emails.
“Automated messages told me I lacked the knowledge or experience for jobs I could have done effortlessly,” he says. “I understood what they were really saying: they thought I was too old.”
“Once you’re over 50, you’re considered too old to employ but too young to retire. What are you supposed to do? I needed an income, so I applied for delivery work. Asda was the only company that invited me to an interview.”
“I’m grateful to be working, but I previously took home around £5,500 a month. Now it’s about £1,500.”
“We changed our mortgage to interest-only because the payments had reached £2,500 a month, and we’re taking money from our private pensions.”
“We’ve also had to make serious reductions in our spending. We used to enjoy going out for meals, but that is no longer possible. We buy all our groceries at Asda and use my staff discount.”
“I want to work, enjoy life and eventually retire, but this experience has made the future feel far less secure.”
After earning six figures, I wondered what I was doing at the Job Centre
Nick Kelsall spent 25 years at the same investment management company and never expected to be unemployed, let alone claiming support at the Job Centre.
“I had never considered applying for benefits,” says Nick, who lives in a four-bedroom semi-detached house in Farnborough, Hampshire, with his wife Dawn, a hair stylist, and their two children, aged 14 and 16. “I’ve always worked for my income.”
Nick joined Premier Asset Management in a back-office role and worked his way up to become a chartered wealth manager, earning a six-figure salary at the height of his career. But when the company announced restructuring cuts in April this year, he was one of those selected to leave.
“I always assumed I would decide when to leave,” says Nick Kelsall. “Being told to go came as a horrible shock”
“I had just turned 50, so the timing was awful,” he says. “I always believed I would have control over my own exit. I never expected the company to tell me it was time to go.”
Since then, he has applied for more than 50 positions and struggled to reach recruiters. “AI-based recruitment systems have made the process incredibly confusing. It feels as though you need to know how to communicate with AI before you can even reach a person.”
Nick has reluctantly claimed Jobseeker’s Allowance, partly so he can continue receiving National Insurance credits and safeguard his future pension entitlement.
“My first visit to the Job Centre was demoralising,” he says. “I looked around and thought, ‘These people really need the money — what am I doing here?’ I never imagined I would be in that position.”
“The staff were kind, but I felt I was being addressed like a teenager rather than someone with a professional career. It was clear they couldn’t help me find the type of role I’m seeking, although that isn’t really their purpose.”
Staff suggested he contact the M3 Job Club, a career transition charity that provides weekly meetings, guest experts and practical guidance on navigating the modern employment market. Nick says it has been a vital source of support.
“It has helped enormously to meet other people facing the same situation,” he says.
As his redundancy payment continues to shrink, the household is increasingly dependent on his wife’s considerably lower income.
The uncertainty remains a constant concern. “I hope I find something soon,” Nick says. “I still have many productive years ahead of me.”
At 57, it feels deeply strange not to have a job
Mat Loup believed a recent interview had gone well. He had made clear that he was willing to accept a role below his previous level, but was still told he was “too experienced”.
Now 57, Mat is discovering that a long career can sometimes become an obstacle rather than an advantage. “Recruiters often don’t believe you when you say you’re happy to move down a level,” he says. “That makes the process even harder.”
Mat Loup earned more than £100,000 at the height of his career and has been seeking work since April
Mat began his working life as a journalist before moving into corporate communications after relocating to Canada with his family.
He spent 18 years working across different industries and roles there. After redundancy, he returned to Britain with his wife in November last year.
He found a contract through his professional contacts after returning, but that assignment ended in July, leaving him searching once again.
“I spent much of last year looking because I knew I was coming back to Britain, and I’ve been searching again since April,” says Mat, who lives in a three-bedroom house in Winchester with his wife, who works in media analytics and content marketing. Their children are both adults — a 22-year-old daughter and a 25-year-old son.
“The employment market is extremely difficult at the moment,” he says.
At the peak of his career, Mat earned more than £100,000.
He has some savings, but says the pressure is mounting. “Our household income fell significantly when my contract ended, and my wife’s contract is due to finish in December. I can feel the clock ticking.”
He is spending both time and money developing new skills, including learning about AI, but describes the search as an emotional rollercoaster.
“Some days I’m energetic and hopeful. I send applications, make contacts and feel convinced there must be a way forward,” he says. “Other days are bleak, particularly when the rejections arrive or networking messages receive no reply.”
“It can be incredibly lonely because you are the person going through it. My friends and partner want to help, but I’ve withdrawn. Talking about it feels too painful.”
The experience has also affected his sense of identity. “When you meet someone socially, they almost always ask what you do. I have to say I’m between jobs, and it feels uncomfortable. As a man, it feels very strange not to be working.”