By framing its primary benefit as automating jobs, the tech industry has adopted the persona of a "heel"—a wrestling term for a villain. This messaging alienates mainstream audiences, who see tech as a threat, contrasting with past narratives of connection and delight.
Founders making glib comments about AI likely ending the world, even in jest, creates genuine fear and opposition among the public. This humor backfires, as people facing job automation and rising energy costs question why society is pursuing this technology at all, fueling calls to halt progress.
New technologies perceived as job-destroying, like AI, face significant public and regulatory risk. A powerful defense is to make the general public owners of the technology. When people have a financial stake in a technology's success, they are far more likely to defend it than fight against it.
Unlike previous technologies like the internet or smartphones, which enjoyed years of positive perception before scrutiny, the AI industry immediately faced a PR crisis of its own making. Leaders' early and persistent "AI will kill everyone" narratives, often to attract capital, have framed the public conversation around fear from day one.
AI is experiencing a political backlash from day one, unlike social media's long "honeymoon" period. This is largely self-inflicted, as industry leaders like Sam Altman have used apocalyptic, "it might kill everyone" rhetoric as a marketing tool, creating widespread fear before the benefits are fully realized.
The narrative of AI replacing jobs is misleading. The real threat is competitive displacement. Professionals will be put out of business not by AI itself, but by more agile competitors who master AI tools to become faster, smarter, and more efficient.
While proclaiming AI will create jobs, tech giants like Google and Meta have seen profits soar while their employee counts have fallen from 2022 peaks. This data from AI's biggest adopters provides concrete evidence that fuels public skepticism and fears of widespread, technology-driven job losses.
Despite broad, bipartisan public opposition to AI due to fears of job loss and misinformation, corporations and investors are rushing to adopt it. This push is not fueled by consumer demand but by a 'FOMO-driven gold rush' for profits, creating a dangerous disconnect between the technology's backers and the society it impacts.
By openly discussing AI-driven unemployment, tech leaders have made their industry the default scapegoat. If unemployment rises for any reason, even a normal recession, AI will be blamed, triggering severe political and social backlash because leaders have effectively "confessed to the crime" ahead of time.
Unlike other tech rollouts, the AI industry's public narrative has been dominated by vague warnings of disruption rather than clear, tangible benefits for the average person. This communication failure is a key driver of widespread anxiety and opposition.
Tech professionals are becoming a modern 'market-dominant minority'—an identifiable class that wins economically but is outnumbered democratically. Like historical parallels (e.g., Jews in Germany, Chinese in Southeast Asia), this status makes the industry a target for backlash from a frustrated majority, fueled by envy and political opportunism from both the left and right.