Why are we constantly worrying about the future of work™?
If you’re working, you know how it’s done: put in the hours, get the paycheck, put food on the table.
Simple, right? But what if the very nature of how we work is on the chopping block? It’s not just about putting food on that table anymore; it’s about what’s on the menu, how it gets there, and, on those bad days, if there’s even a table left.
So, what’s the future of work is ACTUALLY like?
It’s actually a big debate. And almost everyone is sure that their stories are the right ones.
On one side, you've got tech evangelists promising that AI and automation will free us from our soul-crushing 9-to-5s, giving us more time to explore our passions—like knitting or attempting to become TikTok famous.
On the other side, labor experts are warning that the robots are not our friends. They're here to take our jobs and leave us in a dystopian gig economy, fighting for scraps as "freelance smile consultants."
One study says remote work is the ultimate productivity hack, while another claims it’s turning us into pajama-wearing zombies, destroying team spirit faster than a bad office karaoke session.
So, are we living in a utopia of flexible, AI-enhanced work, or a nightmare where we Zoom our lives away? It depends on who you ask, but either way, buckle up. Here’s the outline of today’s post:
The future of work is a debate where everyone’s got an opinion—and they’re all very sure they’re super right.
But not everyone agrees on what the future actually holds, and their predictions are more like pieces of a play than concrete roadmaps.
Broadly, we can divide these forecasters into three camps:
Think of this the same way you would think we could categorise people’s opinions on astrology.
There are the pessimists, who don’t believe in it, who think it is the cancer of society.
There are the optimists, who would think that the pessimists are a bunch of arrogant elite wannabes.
And the skeptics, who think both sides are equally fucking crazy.
And to be honest, it would be completely valid if you take the future of work™ as seriously as you would with astrology:
On one end of the spectrum are the pessimists. They don’t see technology as a sidekick but as a villain. For them, automation is spelled D-O-O-M, leading to massive job losses and a future where robots do everything, leaving humans high and dry.
These are the ones sounding the alarm, warning us about an automated apocalypse (Frey & Osborne, 2013).
They’re confident that technology will empower us, not replace us. Optimists think AI and automation will free humans from boring, repetitive tasks and let us focus on creative, high-value work.
Picture AI as the perfect personal assistant: it handles the dull stuff, so we get to do the cool, innovative tasks (Raisch & Krakowski, 2020).
Finally, we have the Skeptics. They’re not exactly pro-tech or anti-tech; they’re just... unimpressed.
According to them, all this future-of-work hype is overblown. They argue that despite all the shiny new tech, work will probably look about the same as it does now.
Sure, there’ll be a few new gadgets and tweaks here and there, but the core jobs and industries aren’t going anywhere (Schlogl, Weiss, & Prainsack, 2021). It’s like they’re saying, “We’ve heard this story before, and we’re still waiting for the flying cars.”
But according to a new school of economists, none of these groups are actually making “objective” predictions about the future. Instead, they’re pushing narratives.
That’s right—each group is telling a story, not necessarily about what the future will be, but what they think the future should be. It’s less about forecasting and more about marketing (Beckert & Bronk, 2019).
Future of work predictions tend to follow a simple formula: take a trendy topic (say, artificial intelligence), add a splash of panic (“AI is coming for our jobs!”), sprinkle on some hope (“AI will free us to be more creative!”), and voila—a prediction!
The big themes here include remote work, automation, and gig economy growth. The tech sector might claim that “everyone will be working remotely in the next decade,” while the corporate sector insists that “offices are the future.”
Meanwhile, economists warn of “robotic job replacement,” and policy think tanks chime in with “universal basic income for displaced workers.” It’s the same story, repackaged in multiple flavors of workplace horoscope.
Now, the predictions themselves aren’t all that shocking. They usually include things like:
(wow even I have one posts talking about Re/Upskilling)
So why do we keep hearing these? Why are people in tech, policy, business, and academia obsessed with predicting the future of work? Here’s where we get into framing contests—basically, battles over the story of the future.
To understand this narrative war a little bit better, let me introduce you to the term “framing contest”.
In the context of the future of work, framing contests are like competing blueprints for a skyscraper. Each blueprint proposes a different vision for how the structure—the future workplace—should be designed, organized, and operated. Just as architects debate over aesthetics, efficiency, sustainability, and safety, leaders, policymakers, and employees engage in framing contests to determine what the "ideal" workplace should look like.
Government regulators, meanwhile, are like that strict nutritionist in the background, muttering, “What about the nutritional guidelines?” Everyone’s got a different spin on what work should mean, and they’re all using the power of framing to sell their recipe to us, the eager diners.
And there’s evidence that framing matters. A 2020 study by the MIT Sloan School of Management found that organizations with more positive “frames” about remote work saw higher employee satisfaction and productivity.
This is not just good vibes; it’s real. When a company sells the remote work frame as “freedom and flexibility,” employees feel more engaged and happier.
Job postings that have “flexibility” in them have greater performance, according to LinkedIn.
But if they reframe it as “work without boundaries,” it suddenly feels like you're on call 24/7, and employees start burning out faster than you can say “digital detox.”
Here’s where we need to get real. These framing contests—these battles over how we describe work and productivity and all these techno-dystopian visions—are actually deciding the rules of the workplace of tomorrow.
What you hear today about “empowerment through tech” or “digital freedom” is more than just workplace jargon; it’s the script for how work will feel and function in the future. Whether you’ll be scrambling in the kitchen for scraps or dining at the high table depends on who wins these contests.
Each of these “framing contests” tries to shape the story in a way that benefits its own agenda. Take the tech industry, for example. They tend to frame automation as “freeing us from menial tasks” and AI as an “enhancer of human potential.”
The government, meanwhile, might emphasize “re-skilling” and “job creation in new sectors,” hoping you’ll see them as a trusty guide through the jungle of economic disruption. Then there’s academia, claiming that “we need lifelong learning”—spoiler alert: lifelong learning translates to “keep paying for courses.”
When you start seeing these predictions, remember: they’re less about forecasting and more about selling a vision that keeps their own interests intact.
So, if these predictions are just polished guesses, why do we keep loving them?
Enter narrative subscription—the idea that people buy into a story because it resonates with their beliefs, values, or fears. Just like people subscribe to astrology or personality tests, we “subscribe” to certain narratives about the future of work because they give us a sense of control, direction, and sometimes, hope.
Take, for example, the narrative that “AI will only take over boring, repetitive tasks.” We like this story because it promises us a future where technology doesn’t replace us but instead makes our work more meaningful.
Or the idea that “remote work is the future”—a notion that gives many people the sense of freedom they’re craving in their current jobs. These predictions are packaged in ways that align with what we want or fear, and that’s exactly why we subscribe to them.
And, of course, the experts making these predictions know how to tell a good story. They throw in just enough data, drop names of respected researchers, and wrap it all in fancy jargon, so it sounds credible. For instance, a 2023 McKinsey report or a Deloitte survey adds an air of authority.
But remember, even astrology has its charts and graphs; just because something sounds data-driven doesn’t mean it’s a crystal-clear prophecy of the future.
Let’s break down why these flashy future-of-work predictions are more flawed than they’d like you to think. Here’s the problem: these predictions rely on some pretty shaky logic. They’re based on what’s called technological determinism—the idea that technology alone will decide our destiny.
But hang on.
Technology may be the show-stopping lead, but it’s not the entire cast. These forecasters act like tech is this unstoppable tidal wave of progress that’s going to flood every job and reshape every industry in its wake. But that’s not how history—or reality—works.
overly deterministic
Alright, let’s talk about one of the biggest blind spots in predicting the future of work: technological determinism.
It’s this fancy way of saying people assume that “hey, this technology will exist in the future; it will automatically change everything.” It’s like a chef looking at a shiny new blender and declaring, “In the future, the blender will have an AI that gave me recipes!” which I really like to believe would be true, but that’s uncertain.
The blender might be useful, but it’s not about to dictate what’s for dinner. Yet that’s exactly the assumption people make with AI, robotics, and automation—they think the mere existence of a new technology means it’ll inevitably take over.
It’s not that simple. Just because AI could become super smart or robots might get cheaper doesn’t mean they’re going to dominate every single job. But we fall into this trap all the time. Remember back in the ‘90s, when we thought the internet would make physical offices disappear and we’d all be working from beaches by now?
Fast forward, and we’re still tethered to meeting rooms (or Zoom calls, but still, we’re tethered). Or how about self-driving cars? For years, experts were saying they’d be on every road by 2022. Spoiler alert: not only do self-driving cars still have a way to go, but it turns out that rolling them out is far more complex than just teaching a machine to drive.
Let’s take a quick time machine trip back to 2014. Game of Thrones hadn’t yet crushed our hearts with that terrible finale, the Ice Bucket Challenge was flooding everyone’s feed, and people were smashing their screens over Flappy Bird. Simpler times.
The only "AI" most people knew back then was Arnold Schwarzenegger’s metal skeleton in The Terminator. Fast-forward to today, and ChatGPT is one of the top websites in the world. It’s like every other week, we're waking up to some tech revolution we “should’ve seen coming.” But honestly? We’re not that great at predicting anything.
Remember, the experts who are making predictions about things now didn’t expect AI to be answering your mom’s questions about TikTok dances this soon. Or that you'd be asking it to help you understand why cats hate cucumbers.
The truth is, we keep talking about the future like we have a crystal ball—but, spoiler alert, we’re all just throwing darts in the dark.
There are two types of predictions:
Think about your weather forecasts. Rains don’t have TV, so no matter what the predictions are, rains don’t care. It will or will not rain regardless.
The other types of predictions are like stock prices. Someone predicts that “hey, I think the price of stock A will decrease soon.”. If enough people buy into those predictions to panickingly sell out their stocks, the price will actually decrease. The effect happened because of the predictions. This phenomenon is called second-order chaos.
Future of work™ posts are the latter breed of predictions, working like self-fulfilling prophecies. The more we hear that “everyone will be working from home by 2030” or that “AI will take over all repetitive tasks,” the more companies, investors, and policymakers start adjusting their actions to fit that story. This is known as the prediction paradox—the idea that forecasts don’t just describe the future; they actually start to create it.
Look at the rise of remote work. Back in the day, saying “everyone will work from home” was a fringe prediction, but then COVID-19 hit, and suddenly, companies bought into the story. They invested in remote work technology, restructured their operations, and normalized work-from-home policies. It’s like someone predicting, “We’ll all be eating kale by 2020.”
Enough people start buying kale, and next thing you know, it’s everywhere. Predictions shape behavior, and behavior shapes reality.
This phenomenon is backed by research in psychology and sociology. Studies show that when people believe a trend is coming—whether it’s an economic boom, a job shortage, or a tech takeover—they subconsciously adjust their actions to align with it.
Economist Robert Shiller calls this “narrative economics”: the stories we tell about the economy directly influence how people act within it. So, in other words, these future-of-work predictions are not purely objective—they’re nudging us to make them true.
Now, let’s talk about what these forecasts miss. Predictions like “AI will take over X% of jobs by 2035” ignore that there are social, economic, and political players in the game, too. Imagine a sports match where only one team is on the field. That’s the kind of logic we’re dealing with here when predictions focus solely on technology.
For instance, economic incentives matter. If automated tasks aren’t cost-effective, companies won’t do it.
Political regulations matter, too. Just because an AI can do a job doesn’t mean it will if there’s legislation preventing it.
Cultural values also play a huge role—like how in-person work remains important in many sectors, regardless of how advanced remote work tools get. The future of work is a multi-player game, not a solo act by tech.
Alright, so we’ve established that a lot of the “future of work” predictions are mostly marketing in disguise. Now, the million-dollar question is: What do we actually do about it? How do we separate fact from fluff and figure out what the future of work might actually look like, so we can make informed choices instead of getting sold another AI-powered pipe dream? Well, we’re going to need to change the way we read these predictions.
Let’s start with the basics: anytime you read some bold vision about the future of work, ask yourself: Who’s writing this and why?
Predictions are rarely neutral. Imagine a reality TV producer trying to pitch their next season. They’ll tell you this is going to be the most dramatic, most explosive season yet. And sure, maybe they’re telling the truth—or maybe they just need you to tune in so they can keep their ratings high.
The same logic applies to predictions about work. A company selling remote-work software will paint a future where everyone’s working from hammocks in Bali. A recruitment firm might warn of dire “talent shortages” because they want businesses to hire more aggressively—often through them, of course.
So, the next time you see a flashy “10 predictions for 2030” headline, read it not just as “What’s going to happen,” but as “What does this author want me to believe?”
Pay attention to the story behind the predictions, not just the statistics.
Numbers are easy to manipulate, but stories? Those require a little more work to sell. And believe it or not, the story a forecaster tells you often reveals more about their agenda than their data.
Take, for instance, the buzz around automation. A study comes out saying that “40% of jobs could be automated by 2030,” and suddenly we’re seeing headlines that sound apocalyptic. But ask yourself: What’s the story here? Is the prediction grounded in real-world evidence, or is it designed to stoke fear and generate clicks? Often, these stats are cherry-picked to fit a narrative of unstoppable change, even if reality is far more nuanced.
Economists like Daniel Kahneman and Amos Tversky have explored this concept through narrative economics—the idea that stories about the economy influence how people behave in it.
When we read about impending automation, we’re being told a story about urgency, change, and inevitability. By seeing through the story, we can decide whether or not we really believe it—or if it’s just hype.
Another common trick in the world of work predictions is the idea of determinism—this notion that the future is already written and that technological advancements are an unstoppable force marching us forward.
It’s the idea that “AI is coming for your job, whether you like it or not.” But the truth is, technology isn’t destiny. It’s one piece of a larger puzzle that includes economic conditions, politics, and social preferences.
So, when a headline claims “The Robots Are Coming,” remember: it’s a framing contest. They want you to believe in the future as destiny so that you feel pressured to “adapt” or get left behind. But history has shown us that people push back. Just because a technology can do something doesn’t mean we’ll let it.
Another reason we fall for flashy predictions? Narrative subscription. It’s why some people are way into the idea of a remote-work revolution—they want to escape the office and believe this narrative is their ticket out.
Think of it as “confirmation bias for the future”: we believe in the predictions that make us feel seen or validated. So, when reading about the future of work, ask yourself: Is this prediction actually plausible, or am I just buying into it because it feels right?
The tech industry is particularly good at exploiting this. They craft predictions to make you believe in a future that aligns with their products. Are you scared of missing out? No problem—they’ve got the solution. Feeling excited about flexibility? They have the tools for that too. It’s less about reality and more about tailoring a story to fit your worldview.
Finally, recognize that most predictions follow a predictable cycle. First, a new technology is announced with a lot of hype, and experts make big, sweeping predictions. Then, once the technology rolls out, we get the inevitable reality check: the tech works, but it’s not as transformative as promised. And finally, the hype subsides until the next big thing comes along.
This cycle isn’t just for tech—it applies to almost any prediction-driven industry. Sociologist Neil Postman wrote extensively on this in the 1980s, noting that we tend to cycle through “technological enthusiasms” that later fade when the new tech fails to meet expectations.
So, don’t get caught in the hype loop. Recognize that predictions are part of a marketing cycle. By spotting the gaps in these cycles, you can avoid the trap of thinking, “This time, it’s different.” Spoiler: It usually isn’t.
At the end of the day, the future of work isn’t a fixed destiny—it’s an ongoing project shaped by us, not just the latest gadget. These predictions try to paint a certain future as inevitable, but reality is much more flexible than that. We can push for policies that protect workers, encourage sustainable practices, and ensure technology serves people—not the other way around.
So the next time you read about the “future of work,” take a step back. Ask who’s behind the prediction, what their agenda might be, and whether the story resonates with you—or if you’re just being sold another shiny vision.
Because while these predictions might be wrapped up in data and trend forecasts, at the end of the day, they’re still just stories. And just like with any story, the future of work is only as real as we make it.
If you’re going to take anything away from this blog post, let it be this: be wary of headlines that promise,
“Here are the technologies that will change the future of [fill in the blank].”
whether it’s work, climate, or education.
No single piece of technology will ever transform these areas in isolation. Every innovation, if it succeeds, operates within a complex web of influences—economics, politics, culture, and probably a million other factors.
Trust your instincts. Trust what you want to trust. But remember: context is everything.