Modern Slavery and Reflections on Corporate Culture

We are told that the “American Dream” is built on merit, innovation, and hard work. But if you pull back the curtain, as I recently had to do in my own career, you find a reality that looks remarkably similar to the darkest chapters of the past.

Recently, I made the difficult decision to resign from my position at Rocket.net. It wasn’t an easy choice, but it became a necessary one. Reflecting on this transition, I was struck by the parallels between my experience and the history of labor in the United States—a topic I recently explored in a fascinating episode of Daheeh [00:00:00], which deconstructs the uncomfortable reality that modern American corporate culture often operates like a digitized, sanitized version of historical enslavement.

The Erosion of “Family”

When I first joined Rocket.net, it felt different. It was a close-knit family of talented engineers who actually cared about the work we were doing. We weren’t just employees; we were creators. But as is too often the case in the “move fast and break things” tech world, that culture was fragile.

The decline began when the company’s CEO, Ben Gabler, decided it was time to sell out. It was a pivot from building a legacy to cashing out, regardless of the people who had poured their hearts into making the company a reality.

Many of us—the engineers who had spent years of our lives building the product—reached out with concerns. We weren’t just complaining; we were trying to save what we had built. We were met with superficial concern that quickly evaporated. The CEO wasn’t looking for a steward for the company culture; he was looking for an exit.

The Toxicity of the New Guard

What followed was a masterclass in mismanagement. The new leadership brought in to take over displayed a stunning lack of technical knowledge and even less human etiquette.

Imagine being an engineer who has poured three-plus years of your heart into a platform, only to have it managed by people who view you as a commodity rather than a partner. It was a series of toxic interactions where our concerns were ignored, our expertise was insulted, and our dignity was disregarded. When I finally reached out to the CEO one last time, hoping to find a shred of the integrity that used to define the team, I was met with the cold finality: Your contract is ended.

Modern Slavery and the “American Product”

The parallels to what we see in American history are inescapable. The Daheeh episode highlights how the United States was built on the backs of enslaved people, whose contributions were systematically erased to ensure the “white master” could claim all the credit [00:36:24].

In modern tech, we see a digital version of this. Executives “outsource” or “sell out” entire teams of engineers—the talent that actually makes the products function—to satisfy short-term financial gains. They frame it as a “Strategic Partnership,” but it is often just a way to harvest the fruits of our labor and discard the people who did the work.

The episode reminds us that this isn’t just bad business; it’s a symptom of a culture that views human labor as disposable [00:36:31]. Whether it’s the historical exploitation of enslaved African Muslims whose mathematical and engineering genius built the foundations of American agriculture [00:25:06], or the modern tech worker whose hard work is treated as a line item to be sold off, the core mentality remains: The machine matters, the human does not.

The Django Effect

As I left, the feeling was unmistakable—it felt like watching Django Unchained. There is a rage that comes from being treated with such profound disrespect by people who wouldn’t be in the room if not for the work you performed.

Modern slavery has been exported and rebranded as “corporate agility.” It is sold to markets worldwide, often at the expense of the people in the countries that have been systematically destabilized to keep wages low and labor compliant. It is a cycle of exploitation that has been perfected over centuries.

Moving Forward

I share this not just to vent, but to acknowledge a truth: we are often blinded by the “founder” myth or the “corporate family” narrative. But when the dust settles, your work—your integrity, your craft, and your dignity—must be protected by you, because the system will never protect it for you.

I left a place that I once loved because I refused to be a cog in someone else’s “sell-out” narrative. I am moving on to build, to experiment, and to work with people who value the human element as much as the code.

History shows us that resistance to this kind of exploitation is not only possible; it is necessary [00:30:45]. Whether it was the enslaved who resisted through faith and literature, or the engineers who stand up to toxic management today, the act of reclaiming your own worth is the most radical thing you can do.