If AI Can Replace Your Job, Maybe It Should
AI isn’t replacing people (yet), it’s exposing fragile jobs. This essay explores what work survives when machines do the rest.
In 1997, something unusual happened. The best chess player in the world lost to a computer.
Garry Kasparov, known for his brilliant mind and deep focus, sat across from a machine called Deep Blue. IBM built it to do one thing only: win at chess: no face, no feelings, just code and calculation.
And it won.
Kasparov lost the match.
People were shocked. News headlines talked about the end of human intelligence. Some thought this was the start of machines taking over. The fear was not just about chess. It was about what it meant.
If a computer could beat the best human at a game of strategy and thinking, what would it do next?
But what happened after was more interesting.
Kasparov didn’t give up. Chess didn’t die. In fact, the game changed. Players started using machines as tools to train, explore, and play better. A new style of chess appeared. People began working with the computer, not against it.
That moment didn’t show the end of human skill.
Now, years later, we’re facing the same kind of moment again. But this time, it’s not about chess. It’s about work. About our jobs. Our value.
And the question is not just “Will AI replace me?”
It’s something deeper.
Why was my job so easy to replace in the first place?
People keep asking if artificial intelligence will replace them… But that’s not the right question.
The better one is this: why was your job so easy to replace in the first place?
Because when AI steps in and performs your work faster, cheaper, and with fewer mistakes, the point is not that AI is too powerful.
The point is that the job was structurally weak. It was never built to last. It was likely built for throughput, not for thinking. For predictability, not judgment. And now the system is revealing itself. Not because of a tech revolution. But the assumptions behind the roles we created are collapsing under inspection.
That’s what makes this shift uncomfortable. Not that something external is disrupting us. But many of our jobs were always fragile. We just kept them alive with meetings, rituals, and presentations. Now the mask is off.
Most jobs were not designed. They were accumulated. Say hello, Peter Principle…
Across decades, industries built roles around gaps in communication, technology, or accountability. We added coordinators to manage work between silos. We added specialists to fix recurring problems. We added layers of reporting to track everything from a distance.
Eventually, we had org charts full of people whose job was, essentially, to keep the structure from falling apart.
Now, software can hold the structure. That leaves a lot of roles exposed. Not just low-skill roles, but mid-tier knowledge jobs. The kind that involve cleaning up after bad processes, rephrasing other people’s insights, or passing information around like hot potatoes.
Those jobs didn’t survive because they were good. They survived because there wasn’t a better option. Now there is.
AI is not replacing humans. It is replacing inefficient systems that relied on humans to hold them together.
That’s what makes this transition complex. We are not witnessing a linear automation event. We are watching a rebalancing.
A redistribution of attention, effort, and value.
That means the threat is not the technology. The threat is what it reveals about our dependency on wasteful patterns of work.
Let’s be more precise. Jobs that focus on execution without context are the first to go.
If the output is the same no matter who presses the button, a machine will press it.
This is not theoretical. It’s already happening in operations, finance, customer service, legal reviews, and parts of product management.
Jobs built on coordination without ownership are also exposed. If your primary task is scheduling, updating, reminding, or handing off, AI will do that better. Not instantly, but eventually. Because those tasks follow rules. And systems love rules.
Even jobs built on strategy are not entirely safe. If your ideas are shaped by templates, past slides, or industry trends, AI can learn that too. The only protection is differentiation. You need to work in uncertainty. Ask new questions. Frame decisions with human variables. Not just copy from the last deck.
And then there is the human layer. The part that stays. That’s the layer AI still cannot reach.
It is the layer of insight, care, and emotional risk. The part where someone says, “Something feels off,” and chooses to act. The part where someone tells the truth in a room full of silence. The part where a leader holds tension without collapsing it into a premature decision.
That is not automatable.
But it is uncomfortable.
The people who will thrive in this shift are the ones who redesign their jobs before someone else redesigns them for them.
This requires courage. Not fear. Not hustle. Just a clear look at the system you are part of, and the willingness to challenge it. To ask:
What am I doing that actually requires a person?
Where am I just maintaining a process that no longer makes sense?
How would I work if I weren’t trying to defend my current title?
If you answer those questions honestly, your role will start to shift. You will begin to do more of the work that matters and less of the work that machines can mimic. It won’t be easy. But it will be worth it.
Because what AI is doing is not just optimization. It is interrogation. And it is asking all of us the same question. Do you still need to do what you’re doing?
Or is it time to let go of the old script and write a new one?
Not for fear of being replaced.
But for the clarity of finally doing something no machine can.
I do think that if AI really was intelligent it would switch itself off.
I've started to tell people that I am hiring AI to replace me. Or at least part of me. The parts I don't want to do, and which can be done better than I can. Leaving me with more time and energy to work on other things that generate income and make me happy. I think that many professionals will work this way in the future.