Identity Shift

When you’re a kid, people often ask what you want to be when you grow up. Almost instantly, the idea of a career becomes intertwined with your identity. Later in life, when we meet new people, we often ask them what they do for a living. While this helps us get a sense of their daily lives, it rarely gives us an honest impression of who they are, what they value, or what they would pursue if they had complete freedom. It’s striking how much our jobs have shaped not only how we define ourselves but also those around us. However, what happens if our jobs would suddenly disappear?

With AI advancing rapidly and replacing more and more jobs, it seems only a matter of time before many people will need to find new occupations, careers, and, by extension, new identities. This last part may actually prove the hardest to adjust to. It’s not just about losing a job and security—though that certainly plays a role—but also about no longer being the person who fulfilled a specific role within an organization. People would lose the ability to associate themselves with a brand, a mission, or a community. After all, many share values with their colleagues and form connections with like-minded individuals. When that group suddenly disappears, how do you align your vision? How do you challenge your assumptions or measure yourself against others?

Last week, my dad retired after decades of working for a large national bank. While I’m certain he has plenty of things to keep himself busy, it’s still interesting to witness the shift. He’s no longer my father who works at the bank—he’s now simply my dad who is retired. While this change makes little difference to me, I imagine it might for him. He will likely still mention his former job from time to time, but now it’s part of his past rather than his present. And yet, it remains a part of his identity. After all, you can’t just leave it all behind at the flip of a switch, especially after dedicating a lifetime to a company. One thing is certain: work is inevitably linked to identity, no matter what that work may be.

Lately, I’ve been relying more and more on AI to assist with my programming. Though I remain in control, it’s remarkable how capable these tools have become. Sometimes, I disagree with its suggestions, but other times, it solves problems beyond my own knowledge or skill. In those moments, all I have to do is accept the changes and move on with my day. While this undoubtedly boosts productivity, it also makes me reconsider my role as a developer—and, by extension, the identity tied to that role.

As I’ve written before about AI’s role in writing, perhaps the real value lies not in the form but in the underlying ideas. I still believe that, but as AI increasingly generates ideas of its own, and as audiences potentially lower their expectations, we might reach a point where even the foundation of creative thought becomes artificial or synthesized. This raises an important question: What will our role as humans be in that world? When our jobs inevitably become obsolete—whether soon or in the distant future—how will we define ourselves? Will we turn to political identities, assuming those still matter? Or will we abandon such labels altogether and simply focus on personal interests, engaging less with others than we do today? Social interaction has already declined in recent decades, so it wouldn’t be surprising if that trend continued.

Whether due to AI or other societal shifts, we may eventually stop caring about our own identities on a fundamental level. The result could be a future where life feels monotonous, where we all blend into the same mold, uncertain of what to make of it. On the other hand, a counter-movement may emerge—one centered around human labor, craftsmanship, and genuine physical experiences. Perhaps, in response to AI, we will double down on what makes us uniquely human. We might emphasize our emotions, ideas, and creativity, sharing thoughts and experiences we wouldn’t have otherwise. It could even spark a wave of human ingenuity, driven by the desire to assert our individuality.

Whatever the future holds, it’s an interesting question to ask: How would you describe myself if you suddenly didn't have to work any longer? If you had unlimited free time, living off some Universal Basic Income, how would you introduce yourself at a birthday party? Who knows—perhaps, in the end, it's not our professions or our past that define us, but simply the act of doing something, anything, at all.