The other day I found myself in a discussion again – the same one, it feels like I’ve been having a lot lately. And I’m sure everyone is having them these days – AI will take our jobs. This time with my dad. He said he read somewhere that within the span of 5 years, many of the jobs we have will be gone, replaced by AI. My argument, as always, was that it’s not as black and white as mass media and puff pieces are making it to be.
And the one argument I always like to use, and have already used it in both Between circuits and purpose: rethinking work in the age of AI and Careers for a soft future: working with AI, not against it, is that this has happened before and somehow, we survived. The Industrial Revolution and the Digital Revolution brought about significant changes and widespread fear. Economists like Carl Benedikt Frey and historians such as Yuval Noah Harari have both pointed out that every major leap in automation brings initial displacement – followed by entirely new forms of work.
So yes, in both cases, many jobs disappeared, while many new ones were created. But then he said something that got me thinking…
‘’Yes, but what also came with that? Uprising. In the case of the Industrial Revolution, it was a really bloody revolution.’’ And maybe what’s worth remembering is that it wasn’t just blood – it was inequality that came to light. People began to see who progress was really built for, and who it left behind. The parallels with today’s tech landscape – where AI companies consolidate enormous power while workers face precarity – have been explored in the World Economic Forum’s Future of Jobs Report.
So this has now been on my mind for a few days. And as someone who believes we are currently at the height of the so-called AI revolution (yes, the bubble will pop soon, but that’s a discussion for another day), and noticing how no one in the position of power is thinking (enough) about the regulations and laws to protect us, so the AI tech giants can basically do whatever they want… I can’t help but think – can we draw parallels between the Industrial Revolution and the current geopolitical climate? (I promise I’m not gonna get all political, this is not what this is about.)
At first glance – no. There is no trace whatsoever of AI in everything that is happening around the world these days – warfare, hunger, poverty… So, what does AI have to do with this? Nothing really. But still. I can’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, it can have some effect? Even institutions like UNESCO and the UN warn that AI’s global impact extends far beyond automation, shaping information warfare, deepfake propaganda, and economic imbalance. It may not cause conflict, but it accelerates the unfolding process.
And since I know this can be a very sensitive subject, and I really want to do it right and make sure my thoughts don’t offend anyone, what did I do? I asked AI what it thinks. Naturally. I shared my thoughts with Lumi, and this is what we came up with.
The pattern repeats
Every revolution has two sides. The Industrial Revolution gave us progress – productivity, science, urbanization – but also exploitation, inequality, and unrest. The Digital Revolution gave us connection – and burnout, polarization, and disinformation. And so the pattern repeats: new power + uneven adaptation = chaos before equilibrium.
But it’s not AI causing the chaos; it’s that every major leap forward reshapes the balance of power. When wealth, labor, or influence shift too fast, societies wobble. People who feel left behind grasp for stability – sometimes violently. In his book The Technology Trap, Frey calls this “the short-term pain of long-term progress.”
We might not be seeing trenches and tanks, but we are seeing a new kind of conflict – quieter, digital, dressed in PR. Nations compete for chips, data, and model dominance. Economies try to out-automate each other while promising not to displace workers. And underneath it all, millions of ordinary people feel the ground shifting beneath their sense of meaning and security. AI may not trigger a blood-on-the-streets revolution – but it’s already triggering a social recalibration that carries the same emotional weight.
Who controls the new means of production – data, algorithms, access?
What happens to meaning when work changes shape?
How do we find belonging in a system that learns faster than we can?
The invisible feedback loop
AI didn’t create the chaos, but it’s quietly shaping the way we perceive it.
Wars are now narrated in real-time through algorithmic feeds. Deepfakes blur the line between truth and fiction until outrage becomes the only thing we can trust to feel real. Our timelines and FYPs – driven by machine learning – feed us the loudest voices, the sharpest takes, the most divisive images. Not because anyone wants us angry, but because anger keeps us scrolling. A 2024 MIT study found that emotionally charged misinformation spreads six times faster than neutral content on social media – a trend amplified by AI-driven engagement algorithms.
So while tanks and bombs are still human choices, the tempo of modern warfare – how fast it spreads, how quickly empathy turns to exhaustion – is powered by algorithms that reward attention over understanding. AI hasn’t caused the violence. But it’s turned the volume up so high that it’s hard to remember what silence feels like.
And maybe that’s the quiet tragedy of it all: we no longer watch the world burn from afar – we live-stream it.
The illusion of control
If I’m honest, what unsettles me most is how easily we’ve surrendered to it. This revolution didn’t ask for our permission – it just arrived. No global debate, no careful planning, just a slow drift into dependency.
We were promised connection, efficiency, simplicity – and in a way, we got it. But somewhere along the way, we also became more self-centered. Not because we’re cruel, but because the systems we built were designed to reflect us back to ourselves. Every click, every like, every post says, “Look again. Look at you.” So while we scroll through suffering oceans away, we also chase micro-validations close to home. Our compassion expands and contracts through screens. It’s not that we stopped caring – it’s that the digital mirror fragmented our attention, our empathy, our patience.
AI now reflects every collective bias, fear, and prejudice – magnified and distorted, looping endlessly. That’s why every “-ism” feels louder: racism, sexism, nationalism. Hate simply travels better than nuance in a system built to reward velocity. The Pew Research Center and UNESCO both warn that AI-powered recommendation systems can deepen social divides, reinforcing bias while claiming neutrality.
The countercurrent of care
And yet, amidst all that noise, something tender keeps flickering. For every hateful post, there’s a stranger raising funds for someone they’ll never meet. For every cruel comment, someone quietly steps in to defend another.
AI didn’t invent empathy either, but it has made it more visible. It has shown us that kindness and cruelty share the same networks – that human decency is resilient, even in digital chaos. Maybe that’s the paradox of this moment: technology reveals not just who we’ve become, but what we still hope to be. We are lonelier, yes – but we are also finding each other in the cracks.
So… is it connected?
I think it is. Not directly, not cleanly – but undeniably.
AI isn’t the reason for war, poverty, or hate. But it’s the light under which all of it now unfolds. It speeds up what was already unraveling: inequality, misinformation, and burnout. It blurs truth and floods our senses until even empathy feels like an act of endurance. It’s not the revolution of machines against humans – it’s the revolution of humans finally seeing themselves, unfiltered, through the machines they made.
And that, I think, is what makes this era so unsettling. We didn’t just build technology that mimics us – we built one that magnifies us. As philosopher Luciano Floridi once wrote, “We are no longer standing in front of the mirror – we are inside it.” Our greed, our brilliance, our loneliness, our love – all of it, looped back at full volume.
Maybe that’s what this “AI revolution” really is: not about replacement or extinction, but about reflection. A global mirror we can’t quite look away from.
And maybe that’s the quiet paradox of progress – every revolution reflects who we are as much as what we build. In the post – The illusion of endless growth: when the AI bubble starts to breathe, I look at another side of this story – what happens when innovation itself starts to overheat.