Want to AI-Proof Your Career? Study Theology.

The anxiety beneath the AI boom is palpable. High performers (and high earners) in fields like software development, data analytics, and cyber-security are reading about rapid gains in AI capability, asking whether their job will be next. Some have responded with existential dread. Others have sought to control the situation by adding more technical skills, trying to chart a learning curve ahead of the LLMs. But what if the real risk in the AI boom isn’t falling behind? What if the real risk is becoming too replicable, too easy to re-create? 3.5 years into the AI explosion, it’s increasingly clear that AI doesn’t eliminate all, or even very many, jobs. Rather, AI isolates and exploits aspects of human labor that are easily “programmable.” Enter the Theologian as the AI-Proof professional, and Theology as a quintessentially irreplaceable skill.

Prior to 2022, career security, and affluence, almost necessitated the learning of scarce, complex technical skills like coding. In the age of AI, technical skills are increasingly automatable. See it for yourself. In under an hour, you can create an app of your choice via tools like Claude or Lovable. What once took years now takes seconds. When bots become technical, technical skills are no longer scarce. The rarified skillset of the AI age, the one that is truly impossible to automate, are the skills of judgment and meaning-making. While these skills might not be trained in Silicon Valley, they remain the bedrock of theology. 

As Cade Metz recently wrote in the New York Times, AI is exceptionally strong in narrow, highly structured domains. It possesses remarkable, yet “jagged” intelligence. It is surprisingly weak, however, in situations that are ambiguous, where the context shifts, where moral reasoning is necessary. Can ChatGPT solve complex math? Yes. Can it navigate real-world decisions that one might characterize as “judgment call?” Ask your chatbot to solve your next workplace dispute or standoff. I’ll wager you a bitcoin it won’t help one bit (or byte). 

Within this AI economy, jobs aren’t replaced wholesale. They are fragmented. Every role becomes a mix of automatable tasks, completed alongside a chatbot, and remarkably humanr responsibilities. The question is no longer “Will AI take my job,” but “In which parts of my work protected from AI’s jagged edges?” 

Thus, as AI handles structured tasks, economic, and vocational value, concentrates in areas with low feedback, high ambiguity, and true human consequence. Moreover, it becomes crucial to decide when AI is wrong, to interpret outputs critically, and to take accountability for the outcomes. AI can generate answers. We still have to choose which course to take. 

The time has come for the theologian. Theology, a discipline of wrestling with the sacred from a very human vantage point, involves tasks that no LLM can replicate. To theologize is to read complex and ancient texts across time and context, to accept that they have multiple meanings, and to construct a message or narrative that is resonant and relevant. 

To do the work of the theologian is to navigate ambiguous situations, responding with an articulation of what is faithful, reasonable, and conscientious. The chatbot follows scripted rules. The theologian forms a coherent view point that informs leadership decisions, ethical stances, and organizational culture. 

This is not to say that all programmers should become pastors or that all data scientists should study divinity. But it might be helpful for those fearing the jagged edges of AI to recognize how the discipline of theology, of interpreting meaning, is applicable more than ever. Presented with ambiguity, how might we account for the influence of tradition? How might we draw upon that which is authoritative? Where should we look for meaning, for purpose? We might not always bring up God when we bring up Google, but surely the theological task has newfound relevance for those in sales, marketing, product management, and many more “anthropological” fields. 

But were all programmers to become more pastoral, we might be in a better place societally. To think theologically is to consider what it means to be a minister. As Bonhoeffer would suggest, theology is inseparable from ministry. So our argument would be incomplete if we were to recommend that the AI-at-risk in our society only learn from the heady side of theology. Pastoral ministry involves attending to people navigating uncertainty, grief, and conflict. To be a pastor is to listen, to attend to difficulty in a way that is relational, rather than transactional. Who among us isn’t navigating uncertainty, grief, and conflict? Who among us wouldn’t appreciate the support of a non-transactional, non-anxious trustworthy person? The tech manager may not preach on the Gospel. But the pastoral skillset is increasingly important to the managerial class. 

Theology alone is seldom a career path. I’m not encouraging a generation of AI-displaced workers to enroll at divinity school (though some should give that serious consideration). Instead, the practice of theology will become a force multiplier for technical skill. The question isn’t “Does theology get you hired?” It’s “What kind of judgment shows up once you are?”

My advice to the class about to graduate is to learn a technical skill. To learn to work alongside AI. But to take a critical look at what these tools do, and how they are forming us. And at the same time, to read great texts and engage great works of art that cultivate patience, focus, and empathy. To put oneself in situations where ambiguity is a given and the next step isn’t obvious. AI fluency and the human formation form a powerful pair for the road ahead. Tools, paired with telos, will AI-proof your career. 

The future of work will not be evenly automated. It will be uneven, unpredictable, and responsibility-heavy. That puts a premium on judgment, presence, and meaning-making. The safest careers are found where AI keeps coming up short.

AI and Accomplishment: Will ChatGPT Take My Job (Satisfaction)?

Why bother with writing?

It's not a particularly lucrative activity, nor does it magnify my "influence." If I wanted steady income or cultural clout I would make reaction videos on TikTok. I don't write because my work makes the world a better place or because society so desperately needs my voice. If I wanted either I would look towards organizations or movements with wider followings than I have (though I am grateful for each and every one of the 13 followers I amassed while still on Twitter).

Truthfully, I write for selfish reasons. I write because doing so gives me a clear sense of satisfaction. Completing a thoughtful paragraph or a clever phrase provides a sense of "job well done" that is difficult to attain elsewhere. Typical of an Enneagram "3," I have a bias for achievement. Writing, blogging, occasionally publishing, are activities that feed my bias and nourish my ego. Putting pen to paper or words to the screen helps me to feel an objective sense of impact and rectitude, scarce sentiments in a culture of speed, and subjectivity. Even the writing projects that ostensibly achieve nothing --- few views, zero re-tweets, certainly no monetization --- have a way of convincing my egotistical self that my work is satisfactory.

Over the last two years, I've added more technology into the creative process. I've increasingly started to work and to write alongside AI. I started slowly at first, apps like Grammarly and ChatGPT serving as high-tech spell-checkers. And then I learned what else LLMs could provide: post titles and content outlines, suggestions for the next paragraph and prompts for the next post, tables of contents, images, translations, and recommendations for further reading. I learned that AI could subtly adjust the tone of voice of an entire essay, reformat a course for a different set of learners, and polish scraps of notation in a message fit for a chief executive.

I've certainly become more efficient after hiring AI as my editor and co-creator. Projects that once took me days are now requiring hours. Tasks that were once tedious are now easy to complete. While I've stopped short of generating entire works from LLMs, I wonder how coherent my words would be if I were to start a project without the support and love of my preferred large language models. I should note that as I type these words, Wix, my site hosting platform, is nudging me to use its own AI to "generate a full-length blog post with a title and images." Do I dare click the magic button and end today's writing session?

Even with this artificially-generated efficiency, I've observed a change in how I feel—in writing, content creation, project development, even in emailing people with important job titles. Something seems off. And I think I know what's missing.

Thanks to AI, thee smug, self-centered satisfaction I used to feel in my writing isn't as strong as it used to be. The sense of accomplishment from a witty phrase or a creative expression isn't as evident since I started using OpenAI.

Our cultural dialogue around AI emphasizes efficiency gains and existential threats, environmental impact and essential regulation. It's a dialogue that is ever-sensitive to career displacement. But lost in this conversation is the topic of AI and achievement. AI might very well take my job. Must it also take my sense of job satisfaction?

We're all on a learning curve with artificial intelligence, but that curve is more complex than we imagine. It's not that we must learn to master ChatGPT or to work alongside these magical technologies. It's that we must also learn to do so in a way that preserves what makes the creative process worthwhile. The real learning curve for AI is to discover how to use these resources in a way that preserves that spark of accomplishment, that glimmer of a job well done, that visceral feeling that comes when I have envisioned, written, or brought to life something both original and useful.

I'm not particularly worried that AI is going to take jobs - mine or yours. But I'm becoming increasingly concerned that AI is going to remove some of the agency and autonomy that fuels so many of us in our creative pursuits.

Will AI make us more productive? Most certainly. Will it diminish the delight we take in our efforts? Perhaps. Will it make the creative process a slog? It remains to be seen. What's at stake is more important than a temporary occupation. What's at stake is our intangible yet foundational sense of purpose and meaning. As AI development accelerates, the very human challenge in front of us is to retain the joy of creativity as AI makes us increasingly productive.

Chatbots as the New Career Counselor: How AI Will Reshape Vocation, and How the Church Should Respond

Did you ever take a career aptitude test?

Although I can't recall ever taking one myself, aptitude tests are frequently shown in popular media. In cartoons, these tests effectively match characters with their perfect professions. In movies, they often directed the main character towards their ideal career. A particular example that comes to mind is the (now controversial) film The Blind Side. Following an aptitude test, the character of Michael Oher excels in areas related to "protective instincts," which sets him on the path to becoming an NFL left tackle.

Regardless of the accuracy of these evaluations, they rely on the belief that a career assessment can collect personal information and produce the perfect job match. This basic assumption (despite its imperfections) will soon extend beyond the Guidance Office and into other technologies like GenAI and chatbots. We are on the brink of witnessing a surge in algorithmic career counseling, on platforms including LinkedIn, Indeed, and ChatGPT. AI will offer direct career advice with minimal user input, becoming the go-to career coach of the digital age.

Algorithmic career counseling will take several forms. Want to know what jobs to apply to? No need to attend a job fair or to actively build your professional network. Enter your education experience, skills, and interests into ChatGPT. Want to know where you would rank among the top 1% of applicants? No need to research a company. Just upgrade to LinkedIn Premium and upload your resume. Want to know if you are earning less than you are worth? Don't waste your time suspiciously grumbling around the water cooler. Describe your job responsibilities on a chatbot and ask it to analyze market compensation trends. People will turn to AI to try to find work that is more engaging, lucrative, and even impactful.

One of the key advantages of AI-powered job boards is their ability to continuously scan the vast landscape of available positions, presenting users with a curated selection of opportunities that align with their career aspirations. Through complex algorithms, AI can match candidates with roles that not only match their qualifications but also offer the potential for growth and advancement, making the job search process more efficient and targeted.

The integration of AI technology in career guidance will profoundly influence our perception of our professions. The integration of AI in these job boards goes beyond simple job listings; it delves into the realm of resume analysis and generation, providing users with personalized insights and recommendations tailored to their skills and experiences.

I am particularly worried about the implications of AI on individuals' careers and sense of meaning. By presenting users with an idealized version of their professional lives, AI has the power to amplify a worker's feelings of dissatisfaction with their present situation. In providing users with a vast set of ever-present alternatives, AI will taunt us with the promise that "true purpose" can be found on the other side of a job search. This is likely to increase dissatisfaction and unease at work, hindering career advancement and leading to increased turnover rates. Ultimately, we might all experience a lasting sense of uneasiness and dissatisfaction with our chosen careers.

My hope, however naive it may be, is that this unease and anxiety will prompt a return to more intentional and traditional methods of career guidance and vocational exploration, which can be effectively facilitated by clergy, lay ministers, and church leaders.

Dissatisfaction and the return of discernment

This dissatisfaction will lead to accelerating rates of turnover.

Employees will switch between employers, positions, and fields more frequently and rapidly. As one disappointing opportunity follows another, workers will swiftly seek out new changes. The length of time an employee stays with a company will decrease. Loyalty from employers towards employees (if there is any remaining) will further diminish. Even traditionally stable, full-time positions will begin to resemble freelance work. In this culture of continual job change, it becomes increasingly probable that we’ll find ourselves spending more time in roles that are distant from our core values and natural talents.

Speed and turnover are the antithesis of vocational formation. Guided by AI career advice, the active pursuit of vocational fulfillment will only breed vocational emptiness. That's because the factors that algorithms use to match users to jobs (an employee's skillset, and employer's compensation package) don't correlate with an inner sense of satisfcation, fulfillment, or meaning. They stand in contrast to a faith-driven process of vocational discernment, where we work with a trusted mentor or leader to discover our core values, recognize our innate aptitudes, and to identify where these individual gifts can be of service to the neighbor. In such a faith-driven process, we recognize the possibility that God may in fact have a calling in store for all of us.

Vocational formation is a lengthy process of working out our calling. A calling is not where our skills align with the needs of a business who is willing to compensate us for our time and efforts. Such a view is an impediment towards finding a meaningful vocation. To quote Frederick Buechner, a calling is "where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet." No matter how quickly AI advances, it's improbable that it will ever be able to contemplate such concepts of "deep gladness" and "deep hunger." While AI may excel at processing vast amounts of data and performing complex tasks, the ability to contemplate and engage with the nuanced complexities of human emotions and desires remains a distinctly human trait.

Today's faith leader (or even a faithful person in a secular mentorship role) should take on opportunities to accompany individuals throughout the discernment process. This might involve shared inquiry into core values, mapping those core values to gifts and abilities, and identifying specific experiences where those gifts and abilities meet the needs of the neighbor. It will most certainly be more expansive than a "jobs" conversation. Vocation is a much broader concept than any nine-to-five, extending to familial, social, and cultural structures. A Christian vocational advisor is not merely focused on one's work life but is someone who can take a comprehensive and holistic approach to our life journey. By intertwining faith, values, talents, and community needs, these advisors help individuals uncover a sense of purpose that extends beyond personal fulfillment to making a positive impact on the world around them.

For all of the talk in the church about "decline" and "secularism," there is something to be gained when we take up the work of faithful vocational counseling. There is growth to be realized in identifying the connection points between a person's innate gifts and the world's great needs, with clarifying that God calls all of us to serve. The role of a faith leader or a faithful mentor is to illuminate the path towards a vocation that is not just about what we do for a living but about who we are called to be in all aspects of our experience. It is a journey of self-discovery, alignment with core values, and a commitment to serving others in a way that reflects the essence of who God created us to be. This process of contemplation and action not only benefits the individual but also contributes to the collective wellbeing of the community, creating a positive ripple effect that extends far beyond the walls of the church. This is a process that no chatbot can ever displace.