Otto drivers

Uber has completed its first delivery using a self-driving truck.

In the next 30 years, we won’t be seeing truck drivers behind the wheel delivering our goods—it will be computers, robots, VR and AI.

Using people will be too expensive and too inefficient. People need bathroom breaks, they need to eat and sleep, they cause accidents, they run from accidents, they have labor laws, they get overtime pay and benefits, they need healthcare, they make messes, they are slow, they aren’t compliant and, most of all, they make mistakes.

Truck drivers are not the only ones being replaced. Look at grocery store clerks, short order cooks, anyone in a warehouse. The more repetitive the motion, the easier it will be to replicate and replace it with a robot.

No industry will look the same as it is today. Doctors, lawyers, accountants, programmers, developers, law enforcement officers—you name it. Some of these jobs will be completely eliminated while other will change so much we won’t even recognize them.

We have never seen this much change in one lifetime. (The printing press took several generations for it to spread.) It is scaring a lot of people to think that their industry could be wiped out in the next couple of decades.

But that’s what revolutions do. They tear down the old and enable the impossible.

So what happens when all the jobs are gone?

What are we going to do with all this time we have freed up?

What will it mean to be human?

By eliminating menial tasks from our daily routine, we will free up more time to solve more interesting problems. We will have more opportunities to do work that matters.

We shouldn’t be afraid of what technology has to offer. The smart ones will be running with technology, not away from it.

I’m sorry (I’m not sorry)

I’m sorry your phone is spontaneously combusting. I’m not sorry for blocking your videos.

I’m sorry for creating fraudulent accounts. I’m not sorry for taking away bathroom breaks.

I’m sorry that we were hacked. I’m not sorry we stopped forwarding your email.

I’m sorry, things will be different. I’m not sorry, this is who I am.

The “I’m sorry, I’m not sorry” approach doesn’t work in a world where 3 billion people are connected.

You can’t sweep things under the rug, not talk about the elephant in the room, or pretend the Emperor has no clothes on.

I’m sorry, someone will notice. (I’m not sorry.)


Everyone has one. Each one is different.

When your timetable doesn’t match mine, it’s natural to use urgency to create importance. We can justify stepping on toes, ruffling feathers, or bulldozing the people around us if it’s for the greater good. Because it’s inconvenient to let someone in your lane when you’re late for work. It’s easier to point fingers when someone doesn’t deliver on a promise. It’s safe to say, “Read the fine print.” It’s human nature to ask someone to stand up when they just sat down.

Urgency has never been prudent.

We notice when people push pause on their timetable to help with ours. Because despite being busy, and tired, and stressed; and with the increase in noise, and distractions, and deadlines—you took the time to be their when we needed you. You saw. You acted. You cared.

It’s easy to justify our actions by saying, that the lack of preparation on your part doesn’t constitute an emergency on mine. And you would be be right—the letter of the law says so. But compassion doesn’t work that way—it is the spirit of the law that we care about.

It’s increasingly difficult to show up. The one’s who are standing out are the one’s who are standing up.