What do I do if AI takes my job?
The Future of Work Is Scaring People. Here's What That Actually Looks Like in the Room.
Something has shifted in the last couple of years. I'm seeing it consistently now, across different industries, different roles, different stages of career. People are coming in not just stressed about work, but unsettled by it in a way that feels harder to name.
It's not burnout exactly, though burnout is often there too. It's something closer to a ground-level uncertainty about whether the future they planned for still exists. Whether the skills they've spent years building still matter. Whether they're one restructure, one automation update, one "we're going in a different direction" email away from having to start over.
And for a lot of people, that fear is sitting alongside something they haven't quite given themselves permission to take seriously: anxiety about AI.
This Isn't Irrational
Let me say that clearly, because one of the things I notice is how quickly people dismiss their own concern about this. "I know it's probably fine." "I'm being dramatic." "Lots of people have it worse." The self-minimising kicks in fast. I work with people everyday helping to reduce their irrational anxieties but just as often in today’s society, anxiety is rational.
But the data isn't reassuring. Entire categories of work are changing rapidly. Some roles that existed five years ago don't look the same now, and some won't exist in their current form in another five. That's not catastrophising. That's a reasonable reading of what's happening.
So when your nervous system is on alert about your professional future, it isn't overreacting. It's picking up on something real. The question isn't whether the fear makes sense. It does. The question is what you do with it, and whether it's running your decisions or you are.
What This Tends to Look Like Psychologically
For most people I work with, AI anxiety and layoff fear don't show up as a single, identifiable worry. They show up as a low-grade hum in the background of everything. A slight tightening when a colleague mentions redundancies. A compulsive checking of LinkedIn. Difficulty concentrating on the actual work in front of you because part of your mind is already rehearsing worst-case scenarios.
There's often a particular kind of hypervigilance that develops, not unlike what I see in people who've experienced workplace trauma. You start scanning for signals. Reading your manager's tone carefully. Interpreting a cancelled meeting or an unusually quiet Slack channel as potential evidence that something is coming.
And underneath all of that, for many people, is a question that feels almost too vulnerable to say out loud: "Am I actually good enough to survive this?"
That question isn't really about AI. It's older than that. For some people it's been there since childhood, the sense that their worth is conditional, that they have to keep earning their place. AI and economic uncertainty have just given it a very concrete, contemporary shape.
The Particular Cruelty of Meritocracy Anxiety
There's something specific that I want to name here, because I think it's underacknowledged. Many of the people most anxious about AI and job security are actually highly competent. They've worked hard, built real expertise, have solid track records.
And yet Teddy (if you've read my piece on imposter syndrome, you'll know what I mean) is very busy right now. Because the implicit promise of meritocracy was that if you were good enough, you'd be okay. Work hard, build skills, deliver results, and you'll be safe. AI disruption is threatening that contract in a way that feels deeply destabilising, because it suggests that competence might not be sufficient protection anymore.
That's a genuinely difficult thing to sit with. And it's worth sitting with it rather than rushing to reassurance.
What Actually Helps
I'm not going to tell you to update your LinkedIn profile or pivot to prompt engineering, though practical career planning has its place. What I want to talk about is the internal work, because that's what determines whether you face this period with some degree of agency or whether fear makes the decisions for you.
The first thing is distinguishing between useful concern and chronic anxiety. Useful concern prompts action: upskilling, having a financial buffer conversation, talking to your manager about your role's direction. Chronic anxiety loops. It doesn't lead to action; it leads to more anxiety, more worst-case scenario planning, more paralysis. Learning to recognise which one is driving at any given moment matters.
The second is getting honest about what your fear is actually about. For some people it's genuinely about finances and practical security. That's real and needs practical attention. For others, buried underneath the practical fear, is something more about identity. Who am I if not this career? What does it mean about me if I have to start over? Those are different questions and they need different kinds of attention.
The third is noticing what the uncertainty is doing to your relationships. Career anxiety has a way of seeping into everything. People become irritable at home, withdrawn with friends, either obsessively talking about work anxiety or unable to talk about it at all. If this is happening, it's worth naming.
And the fourth, which is perhaps the most important: this is genuinely hard. It's not a mindset problem. It's not fixed by gratitude journaling or positive reframing. The ground is shifting under people's feet in real ways, and the psychological weight of that deserves to be taken seriously.
A Note on Seeking Support
If you're finding that work anxiety is affecting your sleep, your relationships, your ability to be present, or your sense of self, that's worth talking to someone about. Not because something is wrong with you, but because this is genuinely one of those periods where having a space to think clearly, away from the noise, can make a real difference to the choices you make.
The people I work with aren't falling apart. They're often high-functioning, thoughtful, capable people who are carrying more than they're letting on. If that sounds familiar, you're welcome to reach out.