Pigeons Lost Their Jobs to Technology — Humans’ Destiny Will be no Different
Once upon a time, pigeons were noble messengers. Feathered diplomats, they soared across continents bearing letters, secrets, and vital military commands. From the ancient Romans to World War I, they were trusted with missions that would shape history. But then came the telegraph. Then radio. Then email. And now? They peck at sidewalks, dodging bikes and buses, hoping for the mercy of a bread crumb.
What happened to pigeons is not just a sad tale of technological displacement. It’s a metaphor, and perhaps a mirror, for where we humans might be heading in the age of artificial intelligence.
From Pride to Pavement
Pigeons were never just birds — they were workers. Reliable, consistent, cost-effective. For centuries, we depended on their biology to bridge distances. But as our inventions surpassed their natural gifts, their roles dissolved. Today, they’re mostly tolerated, sometimes reviled, rarely remembered for their service.
This isn’t far from the trajectory many human jobs now face. AI is creeping — no, sprinting — into every field: customer service, law, education, medicine, logistics, design. Tasks that once required years of training are being absorbed into algorithms in a matter of months. Chatbots counsel the depressed. Robot-lawyers write contracts. Generative tools compose symphonies and create art. And just like that, a sense of purpose, of identity, begins to evaporate.
Like pigeons, many may find themselves wandering, displaced by efficiency, clinging to scraps — government checks, gig work, online hustle cultures — hoping for some leftover relevance.
Not All Will Be Replaced — But Some Will Feed, and Some Will Wait to Be Fed
Let’s be clear: not everyone will be rendered obsolete. There will always be those who program the systems, build the infrastructure, and profit from automation’s scaling reach. Some will ascend. Some will feed.
But who draws the line between who stays and who goes?
Is it the software engineer with the right language proficiency? The influencer with the highest engagement rate? The entrepreneur who automates faster than the competition? Or is it those with emotional intelligence, adaptability, human nuance — traits not yet fully synthesized by silicon minds?
No one knows. The line is murky. The criteria change. And the uncertainty itself breeds instability.
We Could Be the Architects of Our Own Bread Crumb Economy
It’s tempting to romanticize a future where everyone lives off universal basic income and creativity flourishes. But even pigeons, when spared extinction, don’t become artists. They survive, not thrive. They circle city squares, hoping for dropped French fries, not glory.
If we aren’t careful, we risk designing a society where the majority are kept docile by subsistence — digital bread crumbs — while a slim minority spins the mill, reaping the bulk of the gain.
So, What Now?
We are not pigeons. Not yet. We still have time to redefine what it means to work, contribute, and belong in a world of machines. Maybe it’s time we ask ourselves some hard questions:
- What roles must remain human, even if AI can do them?
- How do we protect purpose, not just income?
- Who decides what futures are funded, and which ones are discarded?
Because if we don’t — if we let efficiency, economy and optimization become the only gods we worship — we may all be fluttering in digital city squares before we know it, watching the crumbs fall and wondering when we stopped flying.
I have long highlighted the importance of purposeful art — and what follows of messages — for this very reason that is more obvious today than ever.
