It’s really none of my business whether or not a linguist decides to leave the field. Several people I consider friends have, and while I miss seeing them at conferences, none of them were close collaborators. Reasonable people can disagree about just how noble it is to be a professor (I think it is, or can be, but it’s not a major part of my self-worth), and I certainly understand why one might prefer a job in the private sector. At the same time, I think linguists wildly overestimate how easy it is to get rewarding, lucrative work in the private sector, and also overestimate how difficult that work can be on a day-to-day basis. (Private sector work, like virtually everything else in the West, has gotten substantially worse—more socially alienating, more morally compromising—in the last ten years.)
In this context, I am particularly troubled by the rise of a small class of “alt-ac” ex-linguist influencers. I realize there is a market for advice on how to transition careers, and there are certainly honest people working in this space. (For instance, my department periodically invites graduates from our program to talk about their private sector jobs.) But what the worst of the alt-lingfluencers do in actuality is farm for engagement and prosecute grievances from their time in the field. If they were truly happy with their career transitions, they simply wouldn’t care enough—let alone have the time—to post about their obsessions for hours every day. These alt-lingfluencers were bathed in privilege when they were working linguists, so to see them harangue against the field is a bit like listening to a lottery winner telling you not to play. These are deeply unhappy people, and unless you know them well enough to check in on their well-being from time to time, you should pay them no mind. You’d be doing them a favor, in the end. Narcissism is a disease: get well soon.