March 14, 1998, 8.00 am. Vinod Saxena swerves his new Esteem through the gates of one of India's largest cement factories in central India. He responds to the gatekeeper's salute with an exaggerated gesture of the hand. It is his 35th birthday, he has just become the logistics and commercial manager of the company, and is looking to make senior manager in three years, general manager in another three, and who knows, maybe director after that.

March 14, 2003, 8.00 am. Vinod Saxena takes a rather cautious turn in his sputtering Esteem to enter the same gates. He fails to acknowledge the gatekeeper's salute. His mind is preoccupied with the thought that on his 40th birthday, the only bright part of his life is that he still has a job. The de-layering exercise undertaken by the company in 2000 eliminated the senior manager position, and as for the general manager post, well, the signals he gets are that a young gee-whiz MBA would get it. It's all part of the 'restructuring'-which requires 'risk-taking ability' and other hot credentials that he's deemed too old to possess. A father of two with a home loan to pay off, he's not their man. He is just another disillusioned manager. A member of a tribe "that has been growing in numbers over the last three or four years", according to Ronesh Puri, Managing Director, Executive Access.

Stagnation Rut

It's happening to more people than they'd publicly admit. The mid-life stagnation crisis. The kind that takes hold once the haughty exuberance of youthful ambitions give way to a sombre reality check-and the realisation that one is nowhere close to the corner office, and will never be. In fact, as the pyramid tapers upwards, one may even be closer to-shudder, shudder-'deadwood'.

"Managers sometimes have aspirations that are disproportionate to their capabilities," sighs Satish Pradhan, Executive Vice President, Group hr, Tata Group. But that's not the whole story. Capable managers, after all, are also victims of job disillusionment. Their only problem is that they're too old for young jobs and too young to call the shots. You may blame it, in part, on the last decade's wave of 'lean operations'. The theory? Modern corporations need strategy makers on top, and nimble execution armies on the ground, and the two layers are linked by it systems. This leaves the role of middle managers hazy. Or worse, clear. Clearly redundant.

"Organisational hierarchies have crashed," says Ajit Isaac, CEO, People One Consulting. What happened in the US in the aftermath of its 1991-92 recession has been happening in India. The Indian mid-level manager is under pressure. Explains R. Sankar, Country Head, Mercer: "You're pounced on from above (by the senior management), and you're pounced on from below (by the younger generation of managers)."

Often, the middle manager neither gets to direct the strategy, nor swell his chest for achieving ground-level micro-targets. As one manager put it, "They don't need my brains, and they don't need my limbs." Worse, the accumulated years of greying around the temples without any direct action have dulled the senses, and this makes it all the more frustrating once given the chance to perform a top or even ground-level task. "I can't say they never tested me," says a 43-year-old executive who quit a mid-sized firm, "but I found I had wasted away whatever feel I did have of the market's dynamics once upon a time, so I just couldn't get anything right."

The younger recruits, meanwhile, have entirely new skill sets that the older lot never had the privilege of, particularly in the use of it. Plus, they are far more global in their orientation-and a whole lot more ambitious, ready to snap at middle managers' heels. "Not too long ago, managers at the entry level would wait patiently for two-to-three years for a promotion. Today, they have an appetite for faster success," observes K. Pandiarajan, Managing Director, Ma Foi Management Consultants. For many greying managers, that's scary. "There was a time I used to laugh when sprightly young recruits told me they wanted my chair in three years," says a disillusioned manager, "but now I start wondering where I'll go. The sad part is that turning entrepreneur is the only real option, and with a family to support, that's too risky."

Just recently, the supply-chain general manager of a Delhi-based multinational consumer durables company, met with a head-hunter. "Get me out of here," he groaned. Later the same day, the same headhunter was visited by the general manager (marketing), the general manager (finance) and a vice president from the same company. All four hitting 40, all four seeking an immediate job shift. What prompted the exodus? The company had taken aboard a new CEO-younger than them-with a clear mandate to 'trim the flab'.

All's Not Lost

Of course, there are plenty of training-obsessed firms that ensure that no manager stagnates in his job. In fact, several firms believe that middle management remains vital, not merely as a repository of non-database information, but also as a perspective-feeding group for senior management. Moreover, there's succession to think of. These managers may not be calling the shots now, but at least a few ought to be thinking of themselves as CEOs-in-waiting. They outght to be watching the top's strategies carefully enough to gain indirect experience, just in case.

But if that's no more than wistful thinking, and the reality is a lot more sobering, striking out on one's own may be the best option. It's something any business person worth his salt ought to get excited by. After all, the world of business ought to be populated by risk-takers, not paycheck-takers. "Most of us value our careers more than anything else," rues Sankar, "So even if we are dissatisfied with our jobs, it is inconceivable for us to do anything else." That's the sort of inertia that needs to be smashed.