Yes, AI is probably taking your job
|
Welcome to Issue 36 of A Good Reputation, a newsletter about how to use storytelling to grow your brand. (Did someone send you? Subscribe here.) Hello Reader, A couple of weeks ago, Xiaoyin Qu annouced that she's stepping down from her position as CEO of the company she created to hand over the reins to Astra, her most “talented” AI Agent. Astra, Qu argues, is way more fit for the job than any human. She never forgets. She never slows down. And she’s the most capable of managing the team of other AI Agents that now run everything from strategy to creative to execution. Her company, HeyBoss AI, helps creators build websites and apps in under 10 minutes with a team of agents that never sleep. And her story is the first known case of a founder consciously transferring operational leadership to an AI. That means a bot is now the boss. And she's leading a team of AI specialists who each have their own names, roles, and personalities. In short, HeyBoss isn't just no-code. It’s no-everything—no designers, no strategists, and no prompts. Just throw out a "vibe" and instantly get a brand-new website. Allow me to introduce you to the entire team:
If you’ve heard the term “vibe coding” floating around, this is it in action. Fascinated, skeptical, and slightly terrified, I tried it. Here’s the "vibe" I threw out: “Make me a fun, playful website for my next storytelling cohort that includes a summary of all modules, a section for reviews of past cohorts, a tab for resources, and a waitlist for the next available dates.” The team got straight to work. They debated the site’s visual identity, proposed layout ideas, iterated on each other’s input, and executed it all while I watched. In 15 minutes (they apologized for being “busier than usual”), I had a website. Something that usually takes weeks and costs thousands of dollars took minutes and was virtually free. The process was fascinating. As for the result? To be honest, it kind of sucks. But it's not terrible. (Take a look for yourself.) As someone who does this work and collaborates with (human) teams like this regularly, I know what makes a website not just functional but compelling. And that's partially because I understand humans. I’ve also spent two decades crafting narratives and can spot what’s generic and what feels original. In other words: I have taste and experience. So, is that my only advantage? For now, I guess. Despite all its shortcomings, it's just the beginning. Just like early AI-generated images and videos, AI-generated websites will evolve fast. So the question then becomes: Where does that leave someone like me? And if you’re an entrepreneur or in leadership, like Qu, where does that leave someone like you? According to Qu—who’s still very much grappling with what her role is in both her company and this brave new world—there’s still room for humans with good ideas and taste. And people still prefer hearing from her than the company. Like many AI enthusiasts, she believes bots will free us up from execution so we can focus on those ideas and continue to shape taste. As she put it, “In five years, you won’t be judged on what you build. You’ll be judged on how you think.” Let’s unpack that. A Good PerspectiveI’ll admit—Qu’s prediction gives me comfort. As someone who’s building a platform online by sharing my story and how I think (and teaching others to do the same), maybe this gives me a leg up. After all, we can't differentiate based on our ideas if no one sees them, right? I don't think this is just how I’m soothing myself. If there were ever a more pressing reason to share your thinking and become known for a thing, this is it. That said, I think Qu's missing something. The future can't just belong to those who can think out loud. After all, how many ideas people can the world really handle? I think it'll belong to those who know how to feel. And maybe more importantly, to those who can help others understand what they’re feeling. I'm not alone here. As author and investor Scott Belsky recently put it, the creator economy, which was built on democratized tools and free distribution via social media, has evolved into the “meaning economy.” Abundance has led to saturation. And AI, of course, accelerated that tenfold. As a result, we’ve reached a content tipping point. And scarcity has shifted from access to depth. What matters most now is what stands out. And what stands out, Belsky argues, is meaning. It's the intent, perspective, vulnerability, and truth embedded in your content. This always happens when things become commoditized. We start to crave what feels handmade, intentional, and rare. Just like people still buy $220 hand-stitched leather boots from Italy, even when $20 knockoffs exist at Target. For those of us who create content, not shoes, that “handmade quality” comes from story, identity, and context—things AI can mimic but not originate. Meaning, in other words, isn’t just a good story. It’s a deeply personal filter that shapes everything you make. In the meaning economy, your point of view is the product. And that point of view is shaped by your lived experience, values, contradictions, and clarity of purpose. All of which means: If we want to remain relevant, we must curate meaning, synthesize ideas, and lead with story-first thinking. Narrative strategy is no longer a nice-to-have. It’s the whole game. And while I know I’m biased, I’ve never felt more strongly about this. A Good TakeawayOkay. Deep breath. Iiiiiin. And ouuuuut. I know the pressure to be meaningful can feel like a lot. Also, not everyone is ready to share their story. I worry that the expectation to constantly “mean something” can push people into performance. So let’s take a step back. The first step in building a meaningful narrative—one that makes you identifiable and unforgettable (and possibly more employable in the very near future)—is owning an idea or set of ideas you’re exploring. Usually, that idea is something you're pushing against, like a status quo you're challenging. The good news is that you’re probably already doing it. You've probably heard it definited as your IP—your intellectual property. Or maybe you've heard it called a "premise." Whatever you want to call it, it's simply this: The main idea or set of ideas you're exporing. It's the streamlined theme through which you create your main set of messaging and stories. The way you find it is by asking yourself qustions like this:
My premise, for instance, looks something like this: The stories you tell about yourself, your work, and your ideas don’t just build your brand, they shape your future. From there, I can explore this premise in a million different ways. And in doing so, I can turn my expertise into an argument and platform that helps me diffentiate based on a core idea. So, all that said... Am I worried that Astra and her team are coming for my job? Clearly. But fear of the future never got anyone anywhere. Instead, I'm going to use her story as motivation to double down on the things only we humans can do. Astra can spin up a website. But she can’t tell a story that moves someone to tears. Or translate tension into resonance. Or share the feeling behind the work. That’s your edge. In the meaning economy, that’s everything. For me, it's not just about standing out. It’s about mattering more and being one of the people who helps shape what comes next. A Few Good Resources
Hope you have a good one, |