Our Parallel World

 

Almost a decade ago, I wrote about the internet as a place where ordinary people could build a livelihood. I listed blogs, online teaching, stock photography, YouTube, e-commerce, and a handful of other possibilities.

Looking back, I realise I underestimated not the opportunity but the scale.

The internet turned out to be far bigger than I had imagined. It has quietly become a parallel world—one with its own economy, professions, marketplaces, classrooms, entertainment, friendships, and communities.

In its earliest days, the internet was little more than a vast library. We searched for information, exchanged emails, and occasionally participated in forums. It connected people, but very few imagined it as a place to build an entire career.

Then it became the world's largest marketplace, quietly transforming how goods and services were bought and sold.

Soon after came the age of creators. Almost before we realised it, the internet had evolved into a provider of knowledge, news, opinions, and entertainment.

Teachers began reaching students across continents. Professionals offered consultancy services without ever meeting their clients. YouTubers, podcasters, streamers, and influencers turned what were once hobbies into full-time professions.

For the first time in history, a young person could choose where to build a career. One path lay in the physical world—offices, factories, hospitals, construction sites. The other lay in the digital world—websites, platforms, and online communities.

Both were equally real. Both demanded discipline, effort, and consistency. But there was one important difference. The physical world changes gradually, while the internet rarely stands still. 

And now we stand at another turning point.

Artificial Intelligence has arrived as another general-purpose technology, much like electricity, the internet, or the smartphone. It is steadily becoming part of everyday life. Whether we welcome it or resist it is almost irrelevant. It is here to stay.

There was a time when one had to practise and persevere to acquire specialised skills. Today, with the help of AI, almost anyone can generate software code, edit images at near-expert levels, and prepare reports, presentations, translations, marketing copy, illustrations, music—even videos.

Yesterday's competitive advantage becomes tomorrow's minimum expectation.

Hasn't that always been the story of progress? So where should the next generation look? 

I don't think the answer lies in chasing the latest tool or the newest platform. It lies in asking a better question:

What problem needs solving?

Because the harder challenge is often not solving a problem—it is recognising that the problem exists in the first place.

Technology will keep changing.

But human needs remain remarkably consistent. We want to save time, reduce costs, improve our health, educate our children, feel safer, make better decisions, enjoy ourselves, and connect with others.

And sometimes, the most interesting opportunities appear not because technology has changed—but because the problem itself has changed.

That is why I believe we should spend less time asking, "What skill should I learn?" and more time asking, "What new problems are emerging?"

Look around. There are plenty of disruptions already shaping tomorrow's challenges.

Electric vehicles are creating entirely new ecosystems. Solar power is changing how homes and businesses consume energy. Quick commerce has reshaped our expectations of convenience. Longer life expectancy is creating needs that barely existed a generation ago—not just in healthcare, but in accessibility, companionship, and independent living.

Some of tomorrow's professions haven't even been imagined yet. Every new solution quietly creates new problems. And those problems are tomorrow's opportunities.

Some will be large enough to build companies around. Others will be small niches—but still meaningful enough to sustain a livelihood.

Don't fall in love with the tool. Fall in love with the problem.

Regardless of whether you choose to build your future in the physical world or in this parallel world, embrace AI rather than fear it. Over time, it will no longer feel like a separate technology. Like the internet itself, it will simply become part of the environment in which we work, create, and live.

The people who continue to thrive will not be those who chase every new tool, but those who keep noticing what the world needs next—and have the curiosity to act on it.

Because in the end, the tools will keep changing.

The people who notice tomorrow's problems will always have work to do.

When a Childhood Prophecy Starts to Feel Real

 

Sniped from a diary page

I remember when we were growing up, there was a pseudo-scientific prediction about the future of the human species. I never figured out the original source — it might have been part imagination, part street folklore, part schoolyard “research.”

It was during the time we were being introduced to evolution, natural selection, adaptation — so these predictions slipped easily and convincingly into our young minds.

The prophecy was that someday human bodies would turn spherical from inactivity, while our heads would grow bigger because the brain would be working harder than ever.

The idea was simple: as technology advanced, humans wouldn’t need to work. Machines would do everything. Physical effort would vanish, and as a result, the limbs would slowly lose their purpose and shape. The new human would look like two spheres.

Strangely, it all sounded perfectly logical back then.

Fast forward to November 2025 — Elon Musk, at the US–Saudi Business Forum, predicted that in just 10–20 years, work might become optional. A hobby, he said. Something you’d do the way you grow tomatoes on your balcony — because you want to, not because you have to.

So yes, a part of that childhood prophecy seems to be inching toward reality. “Optional work” doesn’t sound like fiction anymore.

But unfortunately, the other half of the prophecy seems to be drifting in the opposite direction. Instead of thinking more, we’re slowly outsourcing thinking.

We have been drifting away from simple, brain-engaging activities as basic as writing letters. Half the fun was lost when emails replaced handwritten letters, and now my Gmail wants me to reply with emojis. Not sentences. Not thoughts. Not even words.

Just… symbols.

And when I insist on writing a few words, it tries to finish them too — almost nudging: “Leave it to me.”

Meanwhile, AI is drafting reports, taking minutes, generating action items, telling stories, solving math problems, translating languages — almost thinking on our behalf.

It’s strange. We once imagined a future where our brains expanded and became more powerful. Instead, our expressions are shrinking — and so is the brain’s engagement.

So when Gmail offers me an emoji as a reply, I pause.
Not because I dislike emojis, but because I wonder what we slowly lose when we stop forming thoughts… and slip toward symbol-based communication, almost like walking backwards into a pre-language era.

If work becomes optional someday, that’s fine.
But thinking — that should remain non-negotiable.

---