My client—a founder who’d built and sold his first business—got there first. I’d been an early adopter of AI, but he’d started using it more deeply in developing his second business. He’s optimistic and tolerant of risk, built a business at a young age, sold it, and tends to eschew easy answers or momentary emotion in favor of optimizing outcomes. So when he mentioned having some anxiety about AI, it caught my attention. On that day, we had a conversation that went something like this: “I can’t help wondering if anything I’m doing will matter.” “Whatever we spend time building right now might be obsolete before we can get the returns.”
If you’re reading this, you know that moment when you “get it.” It’s the realization of the massive capabilities combined with the understanding that we’re just getting started, fueled by the awareness that denial is not an option. After a question about the future with AI capabilities, both Bill Gates and Elon Musk, in separate interviews, had a very long pause. Those public pauses reflected what I felt inside.
When the Angst Hits Home
Although we walked through the scenarios with my client, I personally wasn’t feeling the angst in the moment. It hit later. It hit me when I realized that my PhD might be worth half as much (or less) because knowledge may no longer be a factor in credibility. The vaults of information stored in my brain, the interconnecting patterns and conclusions formed by that information–that can be done with AI. Did those years of trade-offs and investment produce a degree that may be irrelevant in the decades to come? And while that was attention-grabbing, it’s not what concerned me most. As I realized the fundamental shift in so many ways the world will work, I wondered if there would be space for what I am uniquely qualified for and love to do—making a difference through an intuitive understanding of humans.
I repeatedly asked Generative AI about the skills most difficult to replace. On one hand, it cited emotional intelligence. On the other hand, some of the answers were so good that I couldn’t help but wonder if it was simply trying to make me feel better. I started thinking about the businesses that will continue to exist, regardless of AI adoption. Should I have a backup plan?
Choosing to Lean In Anyway
Despite the internal dialogue, I continued to lean into it. I figured that being close to the front might create additional opportunities, or at least protect me from the shock when the late adopters start realizing the world has changed. And I realized that my thought process might not matter either, that I was simply telling myself things to make me feel better.
Through the haze of uncertainty, I kept thinking about what I love and what fuels me. It’s helping other humans, learning, focusing on joy, and making a difference. The expected thing to say here, is that AI can help me do MORE of that, and it’s true. And I’m all in enjoying this new adventure and collaboration with both synthetic and human intelligence to do cool things. But that’s a rational answer–it doesn’t resolve the emotion.
What Actually Resolved the Emotion
What resolved the emotion was something unexpected. In 2023 & 2024, I had an undiagnosed health thing (it’s fine now, excellent actually). But during the time when my mobility was limited, and I didn’t know what my future life might look like, I noticed something. I could still make a difference. I could still encourage others, offer perspective, serve as a sounding board, problem-solve, and provide hope. While some of these aspects are integrated into my professional role, the drive is separate from the financial compensation.
What I learned was that I can find a way to do what matters to me, regardless of the circumstances. And while that doesn’t answer questions like economic impact, professional relevance, or the inability to anticipate how ROI and value will change, it does help me forge a path of meaning for my own existence.
In terms of economic uncertainty, while I prefer money and hope the evolution continues to offer new ways to generate it, there was a positive outcome in paying off student loans at warp speed. It forced a level of prioritization of the variables that actually impact my happiness. Hence, I’m going to lean into the potential opportunity while understanding that it’s not the foundation of my peace. Alternatively, as my client wisely stated, if none of us have anything to do anymore, at least we’ll all be in the same boat.
There is a lot of speculation and information about AI, including its potential negative outcomes, future potential outcomes, and the ongoing human desire to predict, as we believe that what we can predict, we can control. I think part of the peace may be choosing to embrace the adventure and understanding that, as in other areas of life, illusions of control don’t necessarily correlate with what actually happens.
AI Forces Leaders to Confront Deep Questions
AI forces us to confront existential questions we’d normally have the luxury of avoiding. Historically, we can lose ourselves in busyness and distractions rather than engage in deep internal dialogues that prompt questions like, “Why am I here?” “Do I matter?” “I’m going to do all of this stuff, and then die?” But here’s the thing: existential angst is not new. In my experience, even deep thinkers with a framework for our existence (whether it be atheist, agnostic, religious or other), still grapple with some of these questions. It’s just that normally, we can choose whether to think about them. AI adoption, however, forces us to consider our personal existence and the fabric of humanity.
For me, understanding that I will always find purpose allows me to hold onto the uncertainty about the future while simultaneously embracing the ride. I am old enough to understand that I am part of a turning point in history and young enough that I don’t have the option to ignore it. The existential angst itself has become a catalyst. It’s pushed me into new ways of thinking and doing that would never have occurred had I been complacent or comfortable. And what’s cool about that is that it forces me to think, to be creative, and it opens up new avenues. I get to experiment with products and processes that I’ve always wanted but couldn’t justify the investment in. I get to collaborate with both AI and my clients. Remember the client whose existential angst started with AI? He’s holding the uncertainty, and he’s still building. He sent me the results of a business projection one day. I read it and asked him to send me the prompt. Then, I responded. “I have some additional context about you that AI doesn’t have yet. Can you see what happens with this revised prompt?” The answer was completely different, and so began my thoughts about collaborating with both my clients and AI.
What You Can Do with the Angst
Revisit your answers about your purpose and meaning in life. We all knew that we were going to die anyway. And whether you believe that death puts you in the grave or in heaven, AI won’t change that. So let’s continue figuring out what makes us feel alive in the first place, then use AI to optimize it.
You’ve probably already noticed this, but the more you lean in, the less abstract the existential anxiety becomes. It doesn’t disappear, but it becomes more manageable. From a psychology perspective, avoidance maintains fear; exposure reduces it. From firsthand experience, using AI to do cool things and seeing the potential for greater impact makes me focus on the present. I remain aware of the big questions, but staying in the here and now allows me to embrace the opportunity and drive what is within my control.
When you are simultaneously thrilled and creeped out, remember that’s a good tension to have. I see some people avoiding it so they don’t have to deal with the fear while others are racing to prove their relevance. But holding both the angst and the excitement is what allows us to actually participate in the story. Even if we don’t know how this story will end, it’s a fascinating one. We have the choice to be central characters rather than bystanders, and to drive the narrative rather than read the recap.