The AI Bubble and the Return to Being Human
Fresh out of design school, I landed my first job at a small snowboard brand after an internship with Laurel Escada. Only a few months in, I found myself boarding a plane to Asia for my first trip to the production side of the fashion world — a moment that would forever change how I saw work, technology, and humanity.
After a week in a smoky, windowless office, our small team was heading out to a local factory. It was a concrete bunker of a building, maybe eight stories high. We climbed an open-air staircase and stepped inside one of the production floors.
What I saw disturbed me.
Row after row of humans sat hunched over sewing machines, their hands moving at breakneck speed. Seam after seam, garment after garment, their heads bent in unison under the hum of fluorescent lights. I remember trying to make eye contact with one of the women. She looked up shyly for a split second, then looked down again. Later, I learned they weren’t allowed to look the visiting clients in the eye.
That was the moment my naïve perception of the apparel industry fell apart. I had imagined ateliers — creative spaces full of craftsmanship and artistry. Instead, I walked into a system built on repetition and survival. I was so early in my career – a profession I loved – and I knew that I had to compartmentalize to stay in it.
Even now, 25 years later, much of the fashion industry still relies on human labor for tasks that could be described as robotic. Despite decades of innovation, most textiles remain too delicate, too alive, to be handled by machines alone. A t-shirt — the simplest of garments — still depends on human hands and fine motor skills.
And yet, even as new sewbots are being developed to take over this type of labor, we’ve arrived at a strange and surprising point in history: white-collar jobs are being replaced before factory jobs.
When the Machines Came for the Machines
Every era of technological change has carried its share of fear. When the Industrial Revolution spread to the textile industry, artisans were terrified of the mechanical loom. They believed it would destroy their livelihood. But what actually happened was an explosion of opportunity. The industry didn’t die; it evolved.
The same story repeated itself with ATMs in the 1980s. Bank tellers feared replacement, but as machines took over the transactional tasks, new roles emerged — higher-level, more specialized, more human.
Today, as AI automates white-collar work, we’re once again standing at that familiar crossroads between fear and transformation.
The difference now is scale and speed. This isn’t just another technological upgrade; it’s a societal shift. And yes — it’s uncomfortable. People are right to wonder: What happens to me when the machine can do my job better, faster, and cheaper?
But here’s what history shows us: when we stop trying to compete with machines and instead start collaborating with them, we evolve.
From Fear to Freedom
For decades, we’ve been repeating the same cultural mantra: “TGIF.” We’ve built entire memes and identities around escaping our work — the very thing that occupies most of our waking hours. The pandemic of 2020 only amplified that fatigue. Many people realized that the way they were working wasn’t sustainable, aligned, or fulfilling.
And here’s the truth we’ve been avoiding: much of modern work has become robotic long before AI arrived.
AI isn’t stealing the soul from work — it’s exposing how soulless some of it already was.
That realization, though painful, opens a door. If machines can take over the repetitive, transactional, and mechanical tasks, then maybe — finally — humans can reclaim what only we can do: imagine, connect, empathize, and create meaning.
This is not the end of work. It’s the end of that kind of work.
In fact, it’s one of the most direct ways to manifest your vision.
The Human Advantage
A friend recently told me a story about his son — a young professional who shared a deeply personal post on LinkedIn. His father, a seasoned financial advisor, thought it was “too emotional” for a corporate platform. But that post went viral.
Why? Because it was real.
In a world of polished résumés, brand-speak, A-roll, and algorithmic perfection, authenticity cuts through like sunlight.
I’ve experienced the same thing myself: the moment I shared something vulnerable, it resonated the deepest.
This isn’t coincidence. It’s proof that something resonates human to human.
People are starving for authenticity. They’re craving human connection, not corporate performance. The same AI tools that make it easier to produce content also make it easier to detect what’s inauthentic.
In a sea of generated words and polished façades, what will stand out isn’t who’s the most efficient — it’s who’s the most human.
Emotion is not a liability in business. It’s the new currency.
As the AI Bubble Bursts
The AI bubble — the rush of hype, overvaluation, and overuse — will eventually settle, just as every tech boom before it has. But what will remain is not just a new set of tools; it’s a new paradigm of work.
Automation won’t destroy humanity — it will force us to remember what being human actually means.
We’ll see a rise in creative collaboration, emotional intelligence, and relational leadership. Jobs may change titles, industries may shift, but purpose-driven work will always have a place.
Because, at the end of the day, machines can simulate knowledge, but not wisdom. They can process data, but not empathy. They can beautifully generate words, but it’s still the human who has to give it the context, the meaning.
And meaning is what humans are built for.
The Human Renaissance
So yes — the world is changing fast. AI is here to stay. But maybe this isn’t the story of human obsolescence we fear. Maybe it’s the story of our return to wholeness.
Maybe this is the era when we finally stop doing the robotic work ourselves — and start doing the real work: building connection, restoring integrity, expressing emotion, and leading with authenticity.
Every major technological leap in history has expanded what’s possible for humanity. This one can do the same — if we allow it to make us more human, not less.
It’s an invitation – if you let it – to become more of you.
The human.
