The Last Human Job

Every time a new AI model drops, the panic resurfaces: "What will humans do when AI can do everything?"

I hear it in founders' voices, see it in late-night tweets, feel it in the undercurrent of every tech conversation. Programmers wondering if they'll be obsolete. Writers fearing replacement. Entire industries preparing for disruption.

But I think we're asking the wrong question entirely.

There will be no "last human job" because humans weren't designed to just have jobs. We were designed to seek recognition, to push boundaries, to do things that have never been done before. That drive doesn't disappear when scarcity ends—it explodes.

The Recognition Engine

Deep in our DNA is something no AI can replace: the need to be recognized for something uniquely ours. It's why someone climbs Everest when there's nothing practical at the summit. It's why we name stars, paint canvases, write symphonies that no one commissioned. It's why, given any frontier, humans will race to be first.

This recognition-seeking isn't a bug in human programming—it's the feature that drove us from caves to cities to space stations. And it intensifies, not diminishes, when survival pressure lifts.

The Inflection Point We're Approaching

We're hurtling toward something unprecedented: a Kardashev moment where abundant energy meets superintelligence. Not just better ChatGPT or faster computers, but genuine abundance—energy approaching planetary scale, intelligence that solves problems we've struggled with for millennia.

The West will hit this inflection first, and here's my prediction: societies will become happier, healthier, longer-living. More communities will form. More babies will be born.

Why? Because when you remove the survival anxiety that has dominated human existence, people don't become passive—they become expansive.

What Humans Do When Scarcity Ends

Look at any pocket of abundance in history. When basic needs are met, humans don't stop striving. They start creating. They explore not because they must, but because it's there. They form communities not from necessity but from choice. They have children not as economic units but as expressions of hope.

In a post-scarcity world powered by abundant energy and superintelligence, these drives flourish:

The person working two jobs to survive might discover they're a gifted terraforming engineer, spending decades perfecting atmospheric systems for new worlds.

The artist constrained by rent might create installations that span continents, working on timescales only passion can sustain.

The parent who sacrificed dreams for stability might find both are possible—raising children while exploring colony worlds an hour away by transport.

The Real Future of Human Work

What will humans actually do in this world? Everything that matters:

Terraform planets and rebuild Earth's atmosphere, not because we have to, but because we can imagine better

Clean space debris and design new forms of agriculture that feed not just bodies but communities

Explore distant worlds with the same drive that once pushed us across unknown oceans

Create art that would be impossible today—experiences that span multiple realities, stories that unfold over lifetimes

Build communities that choose to be together, strengthening bonds without the friction of economic necessity

But more than any specific task, we'll do what we've always done: seek recognition for achievements that matter to us. Compete and collaborate on scales previously impossible. Love more freely when time isn't scarce. Dream bigger when resources aren't limited.

The Demographic Reversal

The demographic panic about declining birth rates misses this entirely. Populations follow curves, responding to conditions. When people have genuine security, time for relationships, and confidence in the future, many choose connection and family. The anxiety-driven decline reverses when the anxiety disappears.

Communities will strengthen because people will have time to invest in them. Relationships will deepen because we won't be exhausted from survival. The human connections we claim to value but rarely have energy for will become the center of life, not its margins.

The Beautiful Chaos Ahead

Picture it: Flying to a space colony for lunch with a friend. Returning to an Earth that's pristine and protected. Working on projects that span decades because you're passionate about them, not dependent on them. Living in communities where people choose to be together.

The transformation will ripple outward—from early adopters to the entire world, creating waves of possibility that touch every corner of human civilization. The world will become magical, dreamy, with the boundary between impossible and everyday constantly shifting.

Recognition Without Scarcity

The cottage industry of worrying about "human obsolescence" fundamentally misunderstands human nature. We're not production units that become useless when better units arrive. We're recognition-seeking, boundary-pushing, irrationally creative beings who will always find new mountains to climb.

When everyone can access superintelligence and abundant energy, what becomes scarce? Recognition. Achievement. The uniquely human ability to do something that's never been done, to be the first, to push beyond.

That drive—the same one that compelled someone to first look up and wonder what lay beyond the horizon—will never be automated away. It will only grow stronger when freed from survival constraints.

The Beginning, Not the End

We're not building toward obsolescence. We're building toward the first moment in history when every human can ask "What do I actually want to do with this life?" and have the resources to pursue the answer.

The question isn't "What's the last human job?" It's "What becomes possible when eight billion humans can pursue their highest potential without worrying about survival?"

The answer changes everything. It's not the end of human purpose—it's the beginning of discovering what human purpose really means when survival is no longer the question.

That's the future we're building. Not one where humans become obsolete, but one where we finally become what we've always had the potential to be: irrationally, beautifully, boundlessly human.

What kind of digital world do I want my child to inherit? One where technology doesn't replace human purpose but unleashes it—where every person can seek recognition for what only they can contribute to the cosmos.