The cost of AI

A variant on Moore’s law is the observation that the financial capital required to launch a new business decreases exponentially as technology gets cheaper.

Pre-internet, and using a notional geometric scale for the purposes of illustration, you might have needed $5m to found and build a new venture. The World Wide Web probably reduced that to $500k, while cloud computing brought it down to $50k. With the expansion of SaaS and API solutions, that cost might have been $5k to get going. Now, vibe coding and $500 of AI prompts can probably launch a new website, build a back end database, implement an e-commerce solution and deploy agentic AI bots to go and find your first customers.

This is a great outcome if measured by a lower barrier to market entry. It also enables founders to “fail fast, fail cheap”, and incentivises innovation by financially de-risking the process.

But even though the cost of AI tools is extraordinarily cheap in terms of the computing and processing power they deliver, there is a huge cost to our rapid adoption of AI that needs to be accounted for.

First, we are seeing corporate lay-offs among tech firms and parts of the service industry that no longer need as many human bodies and minds to operate at scale. So there is a human, economic and societal cost of increased un(der)employment.

Second, traditional skills and expertise are being hugely reduced in perceived value – why pay a graphic artist to design an image when I can use dall-e for free?

Third, as more and more creative tasks are being outsourced or delegated to AI (“create a short story about an F1 race in the style of Ernest Hemingway”) we risk losing our own innate creativity (that comes with experimentation, curiosity, play and reflection). This in turn devalues the creative process itself (thanks to cheaper, AI-enabled production).

Fourth, AI (and the Large Language Models on which it is trained) has no great respect for intellectual property. It doesn’t recognise boundaries between copyright material, content that is subject to creative commons, content that is in the public domain, and content which is publicly available. Again, if copyright owners and original content creators are not recognised or compensated for their work, why would anyone aspire to creating anything original?

Finally, there is the cost of resources (energy, water, rare earth metals) needed to maintain huge AI processing plants and data centres. (But at least this demand is accelerating the development of renewable energy.)

A few years ago, I posted a blog about the importance of the human factor, in the face of technological progress brought by automation and AI. I still remain cautiously optimistic that AI will bring huge benefits, despite the rampant growth of AI in the three years since I wrote that piece. But we are currently in an awkward and comfortable transition phase. If more jobs are lost to AI, and if human-led output is increasingly devalued, perhaps we will need to revisit the debate about Universal Basic Income and other policies to facilitate this transition.

Next week: Music, music everywhere…. and none of it very memorable 

Severance….

My recent blog on Unstructured Hours has generated a fair amount of interest, especially on LinkedIn (where, contrary to popular belief, people still go to talk about career development and work/life balance). One former colleague I spoke to expressed some relief at having been made redundant, because they wouldn’t have to join any more early morning or late night conference calls (at least, not until the next corporate gig….).

Is it possible to separate “work” from “life”? (image sourced from IMDB)

The continued debate about “getting back to the office” suggests that employers are having to bribe and coerce staff to turn up in person. It reminds me of the 1980s, working in London, when some firms were offering free breakfast to ensure employees came in early. It was also a time when Friday drinks took on a social and cultural significance all of their own (until the lawsuits started rolling in).

When thinking about the desire to establish boundaries between our work hours and our non-work hours, I can’t help think about the TV series, “Severance”. Leaving aside the science fiction narrative, the basic premise is that it is possible to hermetically seal our working hours from the rest of our lives.

The irony is that when in the office, the staff of “Severance” are often (and inevitably) thinking about their “outies” (their external, outside selves from whose memory they are “detached” for 8 hours a day). And when outside, they may reflect upon their office “self” (and ponder on what type of work they actually do – I think we’d all like to know that!).

While some logistical considerations have been factored in (like, knowing whom to phone when taking sick leave), this hard delineation means that it must be very difficult to schedule your external social life, or attend to other personal tasks such as on-line banking, home shopping, booking holidays or the myriad of other needs we navigate during our working hours. (Again, I’m reminded of the 1980s, when we were allowed 15 minutes a week to go to the bank!)

On the hand, the ability to disconnect completely when you walk out of the office and leave your work behind you feels very appealing!

Next week: The Five Ws of Journalism

 

 

Unstructured Hours

Since I left my last corporate role more than 10 years ago, I have not had a full-time, permanent job; instead, I have worked as a freelance, independent consultant and contractor, for a variety of organisations, and in multiple roles. I’ve not had a “regular” 9 to 5, Monday to Friday job, so it’s meant some adjustments and compromises: I don’t get a regular salary, or sick leave, or holiday pay, or employer pension contributions; but I have flexibility as to where/when/how I work, who I work for, and what projects I take on.

Talking to a business associate recently, who is in a similar position, he defined his current status as “unstructured hours”. I think this applies to my own situation, and it made me think that more and more people are in the same boat, but for different reasons.

First, the gig economy has flourished in the last 10 to 15 years (a trend that began well before ride share and food delivery services came along), with the growth of tech-based freelance work in the software industry and creative services, thanks to on-line market places and accessible productivity tools. So, people are less likely to have fixed hours.

Second, the pandemic and associated lock downs revealed a significant divide between those who are able to work from home (WFH), and those who can’t. For those employees who continue to WFH, the separation of work and non-working hours has become increasingly blurred, with the proliferation of remote working and accompanying tech that means we are “always on”. Add to this the global nature of remote working (and “work from anywhere” policies) it means that even different time zones are no longer a barrier to cross-border employment and collaboration.

On the other hand, WFH has meant that some employees have become more efficient and/or productive, especially when commuting time is reduced. More companies are experimenting with remote working, hybrid working (a mix of WFH and on-site), and even a shorter working week. Parkinson’s law states that a given task expands to fill the time available – something that can become pervasive with enforced on-site office hours, so if employees are effectively choosing the hours they work, they may be incentivised to work smarter, and free up their time for other pursuits.

Third, for employees who still need to attend their place of work to perform their duties in person (health care, hospitality, retail, logistics, manufacturing etc.) many of them work shifts, which in itself requires some significant restructuring of daily and weekly routines, albeit not totally “unstructured” hours. And given our voracious appetite for on-line shopping, all-day deliveries, and access to 24/7 services, shift workers are having to respond to employer demands for a flexible and on-demand workforce.

Fourth, the “always on” phenomena means that it’s easy to erode the boundaries between work and personal life, with the consequence that we are now seeing the introduction of “Right to Disconnect” legislation. This will require careful navigation. What about employees who are required to be on call, even if they are not on site? How will this legislation be reflected in client contracts and service level agreements, especially when there may be penalty clauses and similar provisions? Who determines what is “reasonable”?

When I was in corporate roles, there were always requirements for weekend and over night travel, early morning and late night conference calls, lengthy overseas business trips, and deadlines outside the 9 to 5 routine. Even early on in my career, working in the public sector, I was required to attend evening council meetings and public events. So perhaps I’ve always experienced an element of unstructured hours?

Achieving and maintaining a work-life balance means setting time-based boundaries, managing expectations with clients, and above all, prioritising tasks and projects. It also means establishing routines, so that when we are “off”, we don’t feel any guilt.

Finally, the notion of working within “unstructured hours” may become second nature as more and more people embark on portfolio careers. The ability to juggle multiple roles, as well as remaining flexible to changing demands on our time, will be a prerequisite for anyone working outside the “traditional” 38 hours a week schedule.

Next week: Triennial? Could try harder!

The Grey Ceiling

Last week I blogged about ageing rockers and the growing number of septua- and octo-genarian musicians still touring and recording. Perhaps they never got The Who‘s memo about hoping to die before they get too old? Anyway, it’s enough to make you think  Jethro Tull should update the lyrics to their 1970’s song….

Over in the world of sport, it seems ageism is still a thing. At the Australian Tennis Open in January this year, there was much media commentary (even surprise, disbelief and incredulity) that a 43-year old player reached the men’s doubles final, and had the temerity to win. In doing so, he become the oldest Grand Slam winner, and oldest to achieve a #1 ranking. Goodness knows what those same sports writers will make of a 41-year cricket player becoming the first fast bowler to claim 700 Test wickets.

Meanwhile, the US Presidential election looks like it will be fought out between an increasingly frail 81-year old incumbent, and an erratic 77-year old challenger, who has the audacity to say his adversary is not fit to stand on grounds of age and cognitive impairment. (To say that this contest will be far from elegant or dignified is an understatement!)

However, very few of us ever get to run for President – but most of us will experience something akin to the Grey Ceiling. We will reach a point in our working life when we are considered too old for promotion, or too old to hire, or too old to be retrained, or too old to be kept on.

In some roles and industries, there are compulsory retirement ages. And I get that.

What I can’t understand is the notion that just because someone is in their 50s or 60s, they are on the scrap heap of their career. The last time I was made redundant from a corporate role in a multinational organization, I had just turned 50. I can’t prove anything (because that would be age discrimination), but I had sense that it was “easier” for the company to let me go than a younger colleague: I had no dependencies, I hadn’t quite reached the full entitlement of long service leave, and I was not an expat so there were no relocation costs to consider.

At one job interview following that redundancy, the interviewer had the audacity to suggest that due to my age, experience and seniority, I would be less likely to “get my hands dirty” with day-to-day business operations and commercial decisions, and more likely to sit back and “direct traffic”. There was also a suggestion that I would be less willing/able to adapt to new technology, giving the overall impression he thought at my age, I was simply looking for an easy life.

Thanks to such attitudes which I also encountered elsewhere, I am glad I went to work as a freelance consultant and contractor with smaller businesses, start ups, owners and founders, and also in the cutting-edge technology of blockchain, crypto and digital assets – I have learned so much more in the past 10 years than I probably did in the previous 20 years of my career.

One thing I definitely don’t miss from corporate life is office politics!

And if neither ageing rock stars, nor 40-year old sports people at the peak of their careers, inspire you in your own journey (or as you hit the Grey Ceiling), perhaps some of the stories in The Guardian’s “Life After 60” series will inspire you.

Next week: Unstructured Hours