Going Back Home

When programmers were looked down upon, and finding my way through | 2008-2013

I returned to Thailand with a Stanford degree, a Master's in Computer Science, and dreams of building great things with technology. What I found was a shock I hadn't anticipated.

              "In Thailand at that time, being a programmer was not respected. It was seen as a low-level job,
              something for people who couldn't do 'real' business. I had just spent five years learning to code
              at one of the world's best universities, and back home, that skill was looked down upon."
            

The reverse culture shock was intense. In Silicon Valley, engineers were celebrated. The people who could build things with code were the heroes of countless startup success stories. But in Thailand in 2008, the social hierarchy was different. Business people, bankers, doctors, lawyers - these were the respected professions. Programmers? They were seen as technicians, support staff, people who implemented other people's ideas rather than creating their own.

"So you're a programmer?" people would ask at family gatherings, with a tone that suggested disappointment. "Couldn't you do something more... substantial?" The assumption was that smart people became executives, not coders. That success meant managing people, not writing code. That technology was a means to an end, not a worthy pursuit in itself.

There were times when I questioned everything. Had I made the wrong choice? Should I have stayed in America where my skills were valued? Should I abandon coding altogether and pursue an MBA, become a "real" businessman that Thai society would respect?

              "For years, I felt lost. The passion I had found at Stanford for building things with code
              seemed irrelevant in a society that didn't value it. I even considered giving up programming entirely."
            

The years between 2008 and 2013 were a wilderness. I tried different things, searched for where I fit in, struggled to reconcile my Stanford education with the realities of the Thai job market. The disconnect between what I knew was possible with technology and how technology was perceived in my home country was frustrating beyond words.

And then, around 2013, something changed. The startup craze that had been building in Silicon Valley finally swept through Southeast Asia. Suddenly, everyone was talking about apps, platforms, and tech entrepreneurship. Venture capital started flowing into the region. Young people started dreaming of building the next big tech company instead of joining traditional corporations.

Almost overnight, programmers went from being looked down upon to being in high demand. The skills I had developed at Stanford - the ones that had seemed irrelevant in Thai society - were suddenly valuable again. People who had dismissed software engineering as a lesser profession were now asking me how to get into tech.

I survived the wilderness years, but they left their mark. I learned that timing matters, that being ahead of your environment can be just as challenging as being behind it. I learned patience, and the importance of staying true to your path even when society doesn't understand it. And I learned that the world changes - sometimes slowly, sometimes in sudden waves - and that being prepared for that change is more important than fitting in with the current moment.

To anyone who feels like their skills or passions aren't valued by the world around them: hold on. The world changes. Your time may come. And when it does, you'll be glad you didn't give up on what you knew to be true.