The Frustration of Being a Web Developer in a World of Page Builders
Let me be real for a minute — there’s no future in website development. There, I said it.
I’ve been in this game long enough to see the shift. I’ve built websites from scratch, worked with countless frameworks, and delivered projects I’m proud of. But let’s be honest: these days, it feels like the work I love is being devalued, automated, and boxed up in drag-and-drop builders and AI-driven tools.
Remember the days when web development was artistry? When you had to actually write code — and not just any code, but smart, efficient, and scalable code that solved real problems? Now, it’s all about plug-and-play solutions. Suddenly, everyone with a Wi-Fi connection is a “developer.”
And maybe that’s the problem. When there’s an illusion that anyone can build a website, people forget the nuances, the complexity, and the expertise that real developers bring to the table. But here’s the kicker: clients, employers, and even fellow developers are buying into this oversimplified view of our profession.
I’m frustrated. I’m tired of competing with one-size-fits-all platforms that promise to “build your dream site in minutes.” Tired of explaining why an eCommerce store needs more than just a pretty template and why security and performance still matter — things those page builders can’t provide.
Yet here we are, navigating a world that’s hell-bent on making us obsolete. It’s exhausting. But maybe the real frustration is deeper than that.
The frustration comes from watching something I’ve invested years in — something I used to love — slowly erode into commoditization. It feels like everything I’ve honed and refined is being outsourced to a machine or dumbed down for the masses.
I know I’m not alone in this. Many of us who’ve been in web development for years feel this creeping sense that the future doesn’t have a place for us. Sure, there are specialized projects and complex solutions still out there, but they’re becoming harder to come by. And it’s disheartening.
But what’s the alternative? Do we pivot, learn something new, embrace the very thing that’s taking over our field, or find a niche so obscure that it’s safe from disruption? The truth is, I don’t have the answer. All I know is that website development — at least the way we used to know it — is on borrowed time. And I can’t help but feel a little frustrated about that.
