Agentic AI
Software that doesn’t just answer, it acts. Books the meeting, writes the code, files the ticket. It replaces the workflow, not the search bar.
The lexicon
The words for what’s happening to work. The language of AI, layoffs, and figuring out who you are after the job. Search it, filter it, learn it.
100 terms
Software that doesn’t just answer, it acts. Books the meeting, writes the code, files the ticket. It replaces the workflow, not the search bar.
Reassigning someone to a worse role until they quit on their own. A layoff with the paperwork outsourced to despair.
The invisible human labor propping up “automated” systems. Someone’s still back there. They’re just not in the brochure.
The strange new genre of people filming their own layoffs. Grief, monetized, and weirdly comforting to watch.
The entry-level job AI ate first, so the ladder now starts on the second floor and nobody can reach it.
Who you are when the job title is gone. The question this whole thing is really about.
When a skill that took years to build becomes a button someone else pushes.
The polite economist phrase for “the jobs are not coming back.”
The theory that this isn’t a recession you wait out. It’s a century-long rearrangement of what work even is.
Work done by software instead of people. Cheaper, faster, never asks for a raise or a Friday off.
Machines making the art, the copy, the music. The last thing we swore they couldn’t take.
The system that screens you, ranks you, and sometimes fires you, before a person ever reads your name.
When even the side hustle gets automated. The safety net was a trampoline. Now it’s the floor.
A monthly check for existing. If the machines do the work, the idea goes, people should still get to eat. Lifeline to some, surrender to others.
The optimistic ending: robots do everything and the abundance gets shared. File under “nice if we get there.”
AI that can do anything a person can, and then some. The finish line nobody agrees is close and nobody wants to be wrong about.
The text engines that went from autocomplete to coworker in about eighteen months.
Automating thinking, not lifting. The reason “knowledge work” stopped being a safe word.
The robot that works right next to you. Friendly, until it’s learned enough to work instead of you.
Robots built in our shape, so they can use the tools and spaces made for us. Including the ones at your job.
The hypothetical moment machine intelligence outruns ours and stops waiting for permission.
Smarter than all of us combined. Thrilling or terrifying depending on who’s holding the leash.
The quiet swap of people for programs, one role at a time, until the org chart is mostly footnotes.
The machine made a decision about your loan, your job, your future. Nobody, including its makers, can fully say why.
When the machine states a confident, fluent, completely made-up fact. Now picture it running payroll.
When the bias isn’t a person’s anymore. It’s baked into the model, and the model doesn’t take calls.
Scoring humans like restaurants. Behave and the doors open. Don’t, and they quietly don’t.
The creeping sense that the choices are being made upstream, and you’re just clicking accept.
The business model where you’re not the customer. You’re the inventory.
Software that guesses what you’ll do next, often before you do. Sold to whoever’s buying.
Video and audio of things that never happened, good enough that “seeing is believing” just retired.
Lies at industrial scale, personalized and tireless. The firehose that never needs a break.
Government money, programmable. Spend it how they say, when they say, or watch it expire.
The robo-advisor running your retirement. It doesn’t panic. That’s both the pitch and the risk.
Wiring the mind straight to the machine. The last interface, for better or much worse.
The pitch to move your life indoors, into a world someone else owns and rents back to you.
Computers that live in the room with you instead of on a screen. The office, everywhere, always.
The belief we should upgrade ourselves like hardware. Utopia or vanity, pick your century.
Software that improves by example instead of instruction. Show it enough of your job and it learns to do your job.
Machine learning stacked many layers deep, loosely modeled on the brain. The engine behind most of what suddenly works.
The math that lets machines find patterns nobody programmed. Including the pattern that is your workflow.
Teaching a machine by reward and penalty until it beats the person who trained it.
Machines that decide and act with no human in the loop. Efficient, right up until you wanted a human in the loop.
The field asking whether we should. Usually convened right after we already did.
The sci-fi fear. Less urgent than the boring machines quietly taking the paychecks.
Training AI on everyone’s data without moving it. Privacy-friendly on paper, still learning from you.
Wearable machines that let one worker lift like three. Great, until the math notices the other two.
Flying machines that deliver, surveil, or strike, no pilot required. Pick your use case.
Many cheap robots acting as one. Cheaper than one expensive human, by design.
Robots with a gentle grip, built for the delicate jobs machines used to fumble. Now they don’t.
Cameras that don’t just record. They recognize, score, and remember.
Everyday objects online and talking. Your fridge has opinions now, and an audience.
When the sensors move from your devices onto you. The body as a data feed.
A living software copy of a person, machine, or city. Useful for planning. Unsettling when the copy is you and never calls in sick.
The version of you that lives in databases. Increasingly the only one that counts.
A world built so you never know when you’re being watched, so you behave as if you always are.
When the model inherits our worst habits and applies them at scale, politely.
Turning your behavior into someone else’s revenue. You made the product. You are the product.
Cities wired to optimize everything, including you. Efficient, watchful, hard to opt out of.
The fight over who owns and governs your data. Spoiler: usually not you.
Persuasion at industrial scale, personalized to each mind it’s bending.
When the off switch for speech is code, and the code doesn’t explain itself.
Pointing the same tools that write your emails at targets. Dual-use, all the way down.
Conflict fought in networks and code, where the front line is everywhere and nowhere.
Do more with fewer people. The polite framing for the layoff you haven’t announced yet.
Hiring a model instead of a human for the one-off job. The freelancer’s freelancer, and it works for pennies.
First they let you work from home. Then they noticed the home didn’t need you either.
Untethered work as freedom, or as the last move before the work untethers from you.
The great reshuffling of who does what, and whether “who” is still a person.
Banking without banks, run by code. Liberating and unforgiving in equal measure.
Agreements that enforce themselves. No lawyer, no mercy, no undo.
A world where every payment is seen. Convenient, traceable, permanent.
When national money goes fully digital, and “your” money comes with settings.
The system that flags you as suspicious and can’t tell you why.
Turning everything, art, homes, hours, into tradable tokens. Ownership, financialized to the atom.
Markets moving at machine speed, where your reflexes were never the point.
Hardware in the head. The upgrade path for people who’d rather not be left behind by the machines.
Boosting your brain, chemically or digitally, to keep pace. The new arms race is between your ears.
The seam where person meets system. It keeps moving closer to the skin.
Uploading a copy of you that outlives you. Comforting or horrifying, no refunds.
DIY upgrades to your own biology. Taking the future into your own hands, literally.
The pitch for an internet you own instead of rent. Still mostly a pitch.
Digital layers pasted over the real world. The ads are coming for the sky.
A world you can step into. Handy when the real economy has no room for you.
The helpful voice that runs your calendar, and quietly learns to run your job.
Goods from factory to doorstep with no human hands. Efficient, until you were one of the hands.
The last mile, minus the driver. Another route that used to be a paycheck.
Making things on demand, anywhere. The factory shrinks to a desktop, and so does the payroll.
Trucks, ships, and warehouses that run themselves. Millions of jobs on that road.
The slow trade of everything about you for a convenience you stopped noticing you agreed to.
When the state runs on algorithms and “computer says no” becomes the law.
War with the humans taken out of the killing. The ultimate labor-saving device.
Shaping what people believe by shaping what they see, at the speed of a feed.
When watching everyone got cheap enough to do all the time.
Watching the earth in real time. The same lens, pointed down, watches you too.
Making sure a mind smarter than us wants what we want. Unsolved, and load-bearing.
The argument over whether the machines pass us next year, next decade, or never. Everyone’s confident.
The idea we’re building something we’ll end up worshipping. Or answering to.
When enough of your choices are nudged, predicted, and pre-made, what’s left to call yours?
We can’t define our own awareness, yet we’ll have to decide whether the machine has it.