Meta works, and it works at a size that should terrify the rest of the industry. Three billion people, every day, on infrastructure that does not fall over. PyTorch came out of there. React came out of there. The comp is not a rumor, it is the highest in the business and it keeps on increasing. I am not here to say the place does not deliver. I am here to roast the only person it could possibly produce: a brilliant engineer who got bought, knows he got bought, and has decided the dignified move is to pretend it never happened.
You can spot him because he will not say where he works. Ask at a party and watch the man go quiet, glance around, and mutter "Meta" at the volume of a confession. If the room is bigger he upgrades to "FAANG," which is the corporate equivalent of telling a date you are "in finance." The total-comp spreadsheet, though, that he can recite to the cent, vesting schedule and refresher and all, because it is the one document in the building anyone actually believes.
Everything else is set dressing. They call each other Metamates, a word invented in a conference room that no human has ever said with a straight face, lifted from a Navy chant by a man who renamed a healthy company after a virtual room with no legs. Reality Labs has now lit something north of forty billion dollars on fire to build a meeting you attend as a floating torso, and the pitch is still that this is the future and you are early. Pivot to video became pivot to the metaverse became, overnight, everyone clutching a laptop announcing they were always an AI company. The mission rotates quarterly. The spreadsheet does not.
What keeps the cynicism topped up is PSC season, the twice-yearly stack-rank where your peers grade you and a calibration room decides your slice. You learn fast that loyalty is a number, so you become a number that performs well. Then "Metamates forever" met the Year of Efficiency, eleven thousand of the forever-family escorted out by email, and the survivors understood the deal with total clarity.
And the deal is fine. That is the genuinely impressive part. Meta never lied about being a paycheck. It just paid so much that it bought a generation of the best engineers alive and got back perfect, competent, paid-up indifference. The mission was always painted thin over the comp. Everyone in the building can see the brushstrokes. They just cashed the check before mentioning it. They all repent for doing evil... but only after they cash out.