What I'D tell My Kids about AI and JOBS

I’ve spent the better part of my life thinking about jobs—first figuring one out for myself, and then helping others figure out theirs. After college, I hopped around: waiter, bookseller. Sales came next, out of necessity, and that led to recruiting.

Recruiting clicked for me. It wasn’t just a job; it was a way of understanding businesses and people, which was fascinating. Over time, I started talking about it—writing, sharing, debating—as social media and Web 2.0 took off. For the last 20 years, I’ve been circling the orbit of recruiting in one way or another, through tech, management, or companies.

That’s the lens through which I see AI: work. Not the technology itself, but how it changes work. It's really what I'm interested in right now. AI is here, a daily part of life, often open in three browser tabs—ChatGPT, Perplexity, Google Deep Research—working away on something. My kids roll their eyes at how much I use and talk about AI. I quiz them with it, rely on it at work, and my company is developing with APIs.

For the kids, AI is just a tool, like Google or YouTube. Today, my daughter, while studying for a test, dismissed ChatGPT’s explanation of a niche topic, saying, "Well, it’s useless," and immediately switched to YouTube or some other resource for answers. Information is converging fast, everywhere, and kids are acclimated to this reality. To them, AI is an assumption and it's far from magical. Maybe even "useless".

I also heard them talking about Snapchat AI a while ago. They referenced it in passing by calling it "that stupid AI" ... whatever it did, I don't remember, but it was something only a complete buffoon would say. Here we have the greatest technological achievement in 50 years, and it's already a pedestrian tool to be somewhat disregarded or dismissed in certain cases.

That context matters. For us, AI is revolutionary. For them, it’s ordinary. Maybe even boring. So what would I tell someone starting out in their career—whether it’s my kids or anyone else? I’d start with what I know:

Real Work Stands Strong

AI is still pretty useless in the physical world. It can’t paint a house, fix a broken leg, or install an art exhibit. For now, skilled trades, healthcare, and other physically grounded professions are critically needed. Jobs where human connection matters—nursing, family law, or hands-on medical roles—are untouched by AI. Literally untouched. Side note: these are areas where AI could most help and augment. After all, living is much of the mission of life, and supporting what truly matters should be our focus.

But that "real world is what matters" answer feels too simple. A) A large part of the population doesn’t work in these fields, and their disruption could cause societal upheaval. B) Even those professions face potential disruption as AI moves into robotics and automation.

So, while they might be "safer" bets for the mid-term, the next decade, they’re not immune. It’s also hard to predict what’s next—things might change radically. I wouldn’t take the real-world answer as gospel.

Splashing Paint on a Canvas

Now, let’s look at the opposite of real-world jobs: abstract, "laptop warrior" professions. Consider one of the most AI-exposed groups—contract lawyers. AI can already analyze contracts for weaknesses or liability faster than many humans. In five years, it might handle complex legal scenarios instantly. Will AI replace all contract lawyers? Maybe not.

OpenAI named a feature "Canvas," and it’s an apt metaphor. Words are like paint now. You splash them on, move them around, refine them. The specialists—the ones who know which parts of the canvas matter—will thrive. In five years, contract lawyers might not write contracts; they’ll orchestrate them, directing AI to paint in the right places.

But what happens in ten years, when AI starts handling not just execution but also fundamental analysis—and decisions? Could law—or any knowledge-based profession—become an automated function? Perhaps. The bulk of day-to-day work might fade, leaving humans to oversee only edge cases.

It’s not the full answer. That too feels incomplete - "specialists" and "people who know AI" are not "safe bets."

The Future Isn’t Set

Here’s the thing: professions may change their tasks, but not their purpose. If someone wants to pursue contract law, coding, teaching, or anything else, I’d say: do it—if the purpose of that profession gets you excited. Do you want to help people get better from illness? Do you want to help them have a house? Do you want to help them get a job? Just be sure that "help people..." is in the purpose somewhere, and keep these principles in mind:

1. Embrace Progress: Use every tool available to do things better, faster, and more creatively.
2. Focus on Purpose: Think beyond tasks. What’s the impact of your work? Who does it serve?
3. Drive Change: Don’t fear disruption—lead it. Push forward, helping the most people in the best, fastest ways possible.

For most jobs—whether in the real world or the information economy—everything is up in the air. But that’s okay. Overdeliver on quality, use tools that make the impossible possible, and don’t cling to old ways just because they’re comfortable. Progress comes from adaptability.

But Let’s Try to Actually Answer Direct Questions:

• Should I go to art school?
  Yes. In a world with endless creative generative potential, people who identify and steer quality will be highly valued. Be mindful of every tool and use them purposefully. Understand AI and its limitations—know when to paint by hand, sketch digitally, or generate CSS. The mastery of mediums and their purposes will help you create the best outcomes, regardless of the process.
• Should I be an electrician?
  Yes. The real-world answer applies here. You’ll be in high demand, protected from market disruption, and have steady work. But also - focus on customer service to differentiate yourself. Build a personal brand. Be someone who respects the craft, and show clients you care about their experience and your own. 
• Should I go to law school?
  Yes. But be prepared for the rise of AI-powered systems that could outperform teams of legal analysts. In this context, understand how AI works, focus on tools and efficiency, and offer service that exceeds what was previously possible. Push the boundaries of what people think can be achieved. Focus on areas that you care to make a difference in, because this is what will drive you to create exceptional outcomes.
• Should I be a literature major?
  Yes. That was hard to write, but yes—if that’s what you love. Synthesis and analysis of text are highly exposed areas, but they remain critical. In five years, AI might write detailed papers on the cultural and historical context of Jane Eyre better than a human or a team of humans. But who will craft the prompts, frame the context, compare insights, and refine texts? That could be you. But beyond academia which is the most important part, life is a story. Figuring out its plot may be more important than ever. Use your gifts creatively and make an impact - don't think your "role" is impractical - or it will be. Figure out how to help people knowing what you know best.