For the past few days, as part of Google’s “AI Skills for Tomorrow” program, I’ve been diving into the world of artificial intelligence. I test, experiment, and explore the possibilities of tools that not long ago seemed like the domain of science fiction. And I must admit, the experience is as fascinating as it is unsettling. When I first encountered advanced features such as Deep Research—which allows for deep data analysis and synthesis while reducing the effect of AI hallucinations—I felt a thrill of excitement. Moments later, that same thrill turned into a chill of unease, as echoes of scenes from the series Years and Years reverberated in my head—if you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend it.
This dark, dystopian vision of the near future shows how technology, once meant to liberate us, becomes the driving force of economic chaos. Characters lose their jobs to automation, entire professions vanish overnight, leaving people without purpose or means of living. And although I’m far from being a pessimist, a provocative question arises: are we, as a society, ready for the AI revolution?
The digital genie and the promise of progress
The potential of artificial intelligence goes far beyond simply answering questions or searching the internet. We’re talking about the ability to solve problems that were previously out of our reach. Imagine an AI that, within a few hours, can visualize millions of protein sequences to find the key to curing Alzheimer’s disease or cancer. Think of systems that design and prototype new, ultralight materials, revolutionizing transportation and construction, or model climate change with a precision that allows us to effectively counteract it.
This is the alluring side of AI—its promise of accelerated progress, shortening the path from idea to life-saving product, from hypothesis to groundbreaking discovery. Artificial intelligence can amplify human creativity, allowing us to focus on what truly matters: asking the right questions.
The specter of redundancy and the labor market of tomorrow
But every technological revolution has its price. Just as the steam engine replaced physical strength, AI is now beginning to replace mental power—and in tasks we once considered the exclusive domain of humans. Data analysis, coding, graphic design, even medical diagnosis—all of this can now be automated. The vision from Years and Years, where drivers, bank employees, or translators become relics of the past, is materializing before our very eyes.
These topics are especially close to my heart—not only am I a graduate of Social Policy, but I also lived through the period of systemic transformation, when regional unemployment reached 20%. What’s troubling is not just how many professions will disappear, but how deeply this change will affect society. What will happen to the millions of people whose skills lose their value? How will we redefine the meaning of work and dignity when work ceases to be the main pillar of our identity—and perhaps even of our economy? These are questions that go beyond technology, striking at the very essence of—well, what? Humanity?
Life abhors a vacuum: hope in revolution
I’m not a pessimist, because history teaches us one thing: life abhors a vacuum. The industrial revolution created a class of engineers and factory managers. The internet era gave rise to digital marketing specialists and data analysts. The AI revolution will also create new roles we can’t yet imagine.
Perhaps we will see professions like “algorithm ethicist,” “AI systems trainer,” or “data caretaker” (whatever that means—I asked AI about possible jobs of the future, and I still don’t fully understand them). Perhaps the most valuable skills will be those machines cannot replicate: empathy, critical thinking, emotional intelligence, and the ability to build human relationships. The new future of work may not be about competing with AI, but about creative and intelligent collaboration with it.
It’s hard to predict exactly what the world will look like in ten or twenty years. The future is not written in code. Artificial intelligence is a powerful tool, but still only a tool. It is our choices, regulations, investments in education, and public debate that will determine whether we build with it a utopia—where technology serves humanity—or stumble over our own ambitions, creating a dystopia like in Years and Years. One thing is certain: we stand at the threshold of a new era, and we must begin this public discussion now. Perhaps being “ready” doesn’t mean having all the answers, but the courage to ask the most difficult questions about the future. And by the way—autumn has always felt cinematic to me, so invoking this remarkable series Years and Years is no coincidence, with WFF already on the horizon.
See you at the cinema. Howk.