From Pipettes to Pep Talks: How Pharma’s Layoffs Fueled a Coaching Boom

In the grand cycle of corporate life, the pharmaceutical industry has mastered the art of layoffs while keeping its bottom line healthy. But where there’s crisis, there’s also opportunity—especially for the burgeoning species of career coaches. Once a niche profession, coaching has become a booming industry, thriving on the misfortunes of displaced scientists, marketers, and middle managers. Think of it as corporate capitalism’s answer to emotional first aid.

However, not all coaches come from outside. Companies themselves have embraced the movement, anointing internal champions, squad leaders, and trainers to shepherd their employees through this age of transformation. What exactly do these champions teach? Well, that’s where things get a bit nebulous.

An Industry in Flux

The pharmaceutical sector has been especially prolific in producing layoffs:

• 2022: 119 biopharma companies announced layoffs.
• 2023: That number surged by 57% to 187 companies trimming their ranks.
• 2024: Similar bloodletting, with 146 layoffs already reported by the third quarter.

These layoffs are invariably framed as “strategic realignments” or “operational efficiency measures,” buzzwords that smooth over the chaos they leave behind. And while external coaches swoop in to offer workshops and one-on-one sessions, internal programs are mushrooming just as rapidly, staffed by a cadre of freshly minted "leaders" charged with teaching resilience, agility, and—of course—how to survive the next wave of change.

The Rise of the Internal Champion

Internal champions and trainers are the corporate world’s newest flavor of self-help gurus. Armed with PowerPoint slides and buzzwords, they conduct sessions that promise to unlock potential, foster collaboration, and, in some cases, guide employees into “agile mindsets.”

But beneath the veneer of corporate jargon lies a simpler truth: much of what they teach comes directly from books and certification programs that themselves rely heavily on recycled wisdom. Certifications like "Agile Coach" or "Change Management Specialist" sound impressive, but their bar for entry is often about as high as a team's annual offsite retreat.

These internal programs typically revolve around concepts like:

• “Building Agility”: A euphemism for learning how to juggle new responsibilities after yet another restructuring.
• “Resilience Training”: Tips for staying calm in the face of mounting workloads and shrinking teams.
• “Change Leadership”: Essentially, how to make the next layoff sound like an exciting opportunity.

One insider quipped that internal coaching often feels like “management consulting lite”—complete with dubious diagrams and inspirational quotes from the likes of Peter Drucker or Brené Brown.

What Do They Really Teach?

The substance of these sessions is, at best, a mixed bag. Attendees might learn:

• How to manage their time better, which usually involves a rebranded version of Eisenhower’s "urgent-important" matrix.
• How to adapt to change, though examples often boil down to anecdotes lifted from generic business books.
• The importance of collaboration, a noble goal that is typically illustrated by tired team-building exercises (think trust falls, but for adults).

A trainer might kick off a session with a stirring question: “How can we leverage serendipity for innovation?” By the end, you’re left wondering whether you’ve uncovered serendipity or just wasted two hours deciphering corporate buzzwords.

The Coaching Certification Myth

The proliferation of coaching certifications has added an air of legitimacy to this burgeoning industry. But scratch beneath the surface, and many of these credentials reveal themselves to be little more than expensive exercises in box-checking. Certification courses often involve:

• Reading prepackaged material.
• Passing open-book tests.
• Attending online workshops where participants are taught to ask, “What would you like to accomplish today?”

These certifications, while providing a badge of professionalism, are rarely a guarantee of substance. And as these courses grow in popularity, so does their ability to flood the corporate world with coaches who are better at branding themselves than delivering meaningful insights.

The Author’s Brief Encounter with Coaching

Full disclosure: I, too, once experienced coaching—albeit briefly. As part of a severance package, I attended two sessions with a career coach who assured me they could help me "find my professional purpose." The first session involved "visioning exercises" (imagine your dream career) and "branding worksheets" (pick three adjectives that describe you).

By the second session, it became clear that I’d gleaned about as much wisdom as one might from a Hallmark card. Once the company-allocated funds for coaching ran out, I opted not to continue. I concluded that the experience was as neither revolutionary nor revelatory—just mildly pleasant and entirely forgettable.

Conclusion

The rise of internal coaching champions and the broader coaching movement is a testament to corporate ingenuity—or cynicism, depending on your perspective. What these coaches teach may not be groundbreaking, but their appeal lies in their promise: that change, uncertainty, and even layoffs can somehow be turned into opportunities for growth.

For the displaced, these programs might offer a glimmer of hope. For the still-employed, they’re a masterclass in how to stay afloat in the ever-churning sea of modern corporate life. But for the companies themselves, it’s a clever way to make transformation feel less like a guillotine and more like a group therapy session.

So, if you find yourself booking a session with your company’s internal "agility champion," take it for what it is: not the antidote to layoffs, but a mildly entertaining distraction from the chaos. After all, serendipity and resilience are best enjoyed with a PowerPoint deck and a hefty dose of skepticism.