As more than 19 million U.S. college students prepare to wrap up their fall semester and begin looking ahead to securing internships and jobs next spring, it’s natural for them—and their families—to worry about the fate of the job market in the age of AI. Indeed, Anthropic’s CEO predicted this summer that within the next five years—and maybe even sooner—adoption of AI could reduce entry-level hiring in white-collar professions by 50%. The impact is already being felt: postings for early-career corporate jobs are down 15%, while applications have spiked 30%. A separate Stanford study found that AI displacement, at this point, seems to be disproportionately affecting younger workers.
To be sure, these changes are unsettling. But—despite current, often overheated rhetoric—they’re not unprecedented.
Of course, we’ve heard about the lamplighters and horseshoe makers. A hundred years ago, they were displaced by electricity and cars, and the economy soldiered on and they found something else to do. But the internet bubble 25 years ago, when we were first launching our own careers, is an even more salient example. Discourse around the emerging “information superhighway” also sparked dystopian predictions that tens of millions of people would lose their jobs to internet-enabled automation, leading to “the end of work.”
The job displacement, in some cases, was real. One of us (Dorie) began her career as a journalist at a weekly newspaper and, only a year into her first job, was laid off when the economics of the ad-supported paper faltered. But Dorie—like most of us—managed to adapt, finding new jobs in politics and nonprofit management before becoming an entrepreneur. And the overall economy did just fine, with a current unemployment rate of just 4.3%, compared with 4.9% in 2001, when Dorie lost her job.
The pattern is also clear in terms of individuals’ lived experience. Alexis, along with her coauthor Nancy Hill, has researched Harvard’s Class of 1975, examining generational differences and patterns. Her surprising conclusion is that the experience of today’s college students is remarkably similar to that of students 50 years prior. Despite changing external circumstances (whether it’s campus protests about the Vietnam War or Gaza, and the political realities of a Nixon or a Trump administration), students’ professional hopes and worries remain fundamentally the same. Can I find a career that feels interesting and meaningful? What are the “best” skills to cultivate, and where should I focus my professional development? Can I support myself, and eventually a family, in changing economic conditions?
So—in the midst of these real, but familiar, concerns—what advice can we share about how to prepare for the age of AI without panicking?
1. Use AI as a competitive advantage
First, take advantage of the fact that there’s no incumbency advantage in AI use now. If you’re a newly minted law school graduate, a senior partner with 30 years’ professional experience and connections will almost always hold an advantage over you in their knowledge of case law and ability to land clients. But no professional outside academia has 30 years’ experience in AI, so young professionals have just as much of an opportunity as anyone to gain knowledge, expertise, and professional stature through their deployment of AI in their jobs. Indeed, AI is especially valuable for young adults, as studies show that AI usage is most beneficial for employees with the least experience.
2. Focus on developing a transferable skill set
Second, focus on developing broad, transferable skill sets. We saw what happened when conventional wisdom (from politicians to business leaders) converged on the idea that everyone needed to be trained in software coding. Now, in the wake of layoffs at major tech companies and slowed hiring, newly minted software engineers are struggling to find jobs. If professional reinvention will be necessary for most of us throughout the course of our careers, we need to cultivate skills that can apply in multiple domains. For instance, when Dorie lost her job as a journalist, she applied her writing experience and knowledge of politics (the beat she covered) to pivot to her next job as a campaign spokesperson.
3. Build relationships
Finally, lean into interpersonal relationships, because—unlike you—AI can’t go to the watercooler. With enough data about meetings and emails, it’s true that it can analyze professional networks and see webs of influence within organizations. (Though many organizations are a long way from being able to fully deploy and capture the power of that analysis.) But, at least for the time being, AI won’t be able to pick up on what’s not captured in writing, from breakroom gossip and speculation to whispered advice and traded favors.
Of course, we’re not suggesting that you become a Machiavellian operator, wielding insinuations and demanding reciprocity. But, in all of the discourse about what AI can and can’t replace, it seems clear that interpersonal connections – and the deep-seated principles that govern them, such as the general desire to reciprocate good deeds that others have done for us – are likely to persist. Investing in understanding other people and trying to help them where possible still seems like a worthy bet in the age of AI.
In the past, young professionals could and did adapt to the new technological reality and find ways to make it their own. We believe this will happen again–and perhaps this might even take some of the pressure off the college experience, as students realize no one can predict the future and therefore, there’s no “right answer” to be had as we navigate life choices.