In July 2014, I declared my desire to become a futurist.
A futurist studies trends, emerging technologies, social changes, and other forces to explore possible futures. Their job is not to predict the future with certainty, but to help people and organizations prepare for different scenarios.
I thought it was a great idea at the time, but then I forgot all about it.
Not so great a futurist after all, since I couldn’t remember wanting to be one.
Twelve years later, I read the post. Here were my predictions from a dozen years ago:
- Contrary to popular belief, physical books are far from dead. In the next decade, physical books will experience a resurgence as people seek a greater balance between the digital and the physical. Podcasts and audiobooks will become enormously popular, too, as wireless headphone use expands.
- Within ten years, the great majority of American politicians, both Republican and Democratic, will acknowledge the dangers of global warming and begin to act in concert to address it.
- The growing concerns over concussions and their long-term effects will do nothing to deter the continued growth of the National Football League into the foreseeable future.
- Space tourism and deep-sea tourism will become a thing, but only for the ultra-wealthy, at least at first.
- Portable, highly accurate universal translators will eliminate the language barrier to communication.
- Robotic vehicles and aircraft will transform the battlefield, removing humans from much of the equation.
- People will wear wireless headphones as often as they wear hats and sunglasses.
Not bad. I was wrong on those universal translators, and I think I foresaw space and deep-sea tourism as larger industries by now, but both have made small steps forward.
I didn’t have the word “drone” yet, but “robotic aircraft” is pretty close.
And though I didn’t see the proliferation of earbuds coming, a lot of people, including me, often have headphones or earbuds in our ears. Particularly younger folks.
Maybe I should be a futurist after all.
The question:
How does a futurist get paid?
Anyone want to hire me?
While I try to figure out the economics of the profession, here are my predictions for the next dozen years. I’ve set a reminder in my calendar to check on them in July of 2036, since I can’t be trusted, apparently, to remember.
1. Human connection will become a luxury.
A handwritten note.
A live storyteller.
A teacher standing in front of a classroom.
Dinner without phones.
These won’t disappear. They’ll become premium experiences that people will treasure.
2. Schools will transform and finally realize the true purpose of education. If every student carries an AI tutor more knowledgeable than any teacher:
Memorization loses importance.
The classroom becomes about judgment.
Collaboration.
Ethics.
Communication.
Creativity.
Questions instead of answers.
The best teachers will weave instruction with discussion and debate. They will bring disparate ideas together for students and follow their leads in terms of interest and excitement.
Standardized curriculum and homogeneity will be dead, as they should have been long ago.
3. Live experiences will explode in popularity.
Concerts. Theater. Storytelling shows. Sports. Comedy. Travel.
These experiences will also become more premium. More comfortable. More high-end. We will be willing to pay more for these experiences as their quality improves.
Not despite technology. Because of technology.
The more our lives move online, the more we’ll pay for experiences that can only happen in one room, at one moment, with real people.
4. Loneliness becomes the defining public health problem.
We won’t be lonely because we’ll be isolated. We’ll be lonely because we’ll mistake interaction for connection.
We’ll have more conversations than ever, but most will be online and digital, and fewer will represent deep, meaningful relationships.
The people who are willing to step into the world and say, “Let’s be friends” and “Let’s do something” will be the happiest, healthiest people alive. They will be invaluable to people around them.
5. Search engines disappear.
You won’t search. You’ll ask.
Instead of ten blue links to choose from, you’ll have a persistent assistant that knows your projects, your writing, your calendar, your travel habits, and your preferences. That will be the source of all your searches.
People born in 2035 will find keyword searches quaint and silly.
6. Email transforms.
Email’s demise has been predicted for years, but it will not die. It will simply change. It will become mostly AI talking to AI. Your assistant negotiates with someone else’s assistant until it needs human approval.
Humans will read far fewer emails than are actually sent.
7. Keyboard use falls dramatically.
People will dictate, converse, and edit with their voices instead of their fingers. Typing will become more like handwriting:
Still useful, but no longer the primary interface.
8. Writers who still write and type their words will be noticed and elevated.
Speaking words aloud will be quick and effective but will never achieve the artistry required by thinking before writing. Writers who deign to still write their words in pen and on keyboards will be easily spotted in a world dominated by lazy writing, AI editing, and homogeneous written communication.
9. Robots arrive.
Not humanoids walking through shopping malls.
Instead, they will be operating in restaurant kitchens, warehouse logistics, hospital transport, delivery services, and simple household chores like folding laundry and mowing the lawn.
The biggest robotics revolutions will happen in the most boring places.
10. Self-driving finally becomes normal—but only in limited environments.
Large cities. Retirement communities. Dedicated highways. Downtown delivery routes.
Not “every road.”
Just enough to feel inevitable.
