AI Won’t Replace You.

There’s a quiet panic rippling through the creative industries right now.

It’s not loud.
But it’s there—in the cancelled projects, in the ghosted emails, in the silence after a pitch that once would’ve landed easily.

The work is drying up.

Or more accurately: a certain kind of work is drying up.

Execution is being automated. Design, writing, even ideation—it’s all moving faster, getting cheaper, and, being handled by tools that don’t sleep, stress, or push back.

It's not a potential future. It’s already happening.

And it seems to be hitting hardest for those of us who have spent the last 10, 20, 30 years getting very, very good at 'doing'.

The New York Times recently published a piece about The Gen X Career Meltdown—a quiet crisis playing out behind the scenes, just as many creatives expected to be hitting their stride.

Industries like journalism, publishing, advertising, photography, music have shrunk, transformed or disappeared altogether. Design, illustration, animation on the cusp. Many experienced creatives are looking around and wondering if they’re on the quiet edge of relevance.

But one quote from the article stuck with me:

“One thing I’m grateful for—and it’s the strength of my generation—is we weren’t promised anything. I was prepared to struggle.”

That line resonated because it's something I’ve felt but never quite put into words.

For context I'm a 70's model myself, so that puts me firmly in the generation that had to rewind our music.

The point; We were taught to adapt.
And in a world that keeps shifting, that ability to think on our feet, stay curious, and solve problems? That’s not just relevant now. It’s an edge.

We know how to listen.
How to read a room.
How to pitch an idea.
How to think before we speak.
How to speak so someone listens.
How to problem-solve when the brief is wrong, the client is stressed, and the timeline is unreasonable.

And more than anything—we know how to build trust.

AI can do a hell of a lot.
But it can’t feel a pause in a conversation and know what’s really being asked.
It can’t help a business decide what matters.

But you can.

So, treat this moment as a signal—it might be time to change lanes.
Away from being “the person who makes things,”
and toward being “the person who helps make the right things.”

That shift—from outputs to outcomes—might just be the most creatively fulfilling move we ever make.

If you’re feeling the fear, you’re not alone.
But you’re not being replaced.
You’re being rerouted.

And you’re not behind—you’re just ready for what’s next.